Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Daddy's girl

He visited me in my sleep last night - just suddenly showed up, almost rudely interjecting himself into a dream already in progress. I was so happy, so relieved to see him. I shrieked and threw myself at him with overwhelming and uninhibited raw joy. As I hugged him, crying, I reminded myself that this was just a dream - had to be just a dream - and that our time would be brief. I hastily threw aside the characters and plot of my other dream and, hands clasped, led my dad to a pebbly beach where he listened intently while I poured my heart out. And then, as he always does near the end of his dream visits, he quietly looked around as if something he couldn't quite remember had suddenly started tickling the back of his brain, and said: "I think I need to be getting back."

There are a number of things going on in my life right now that I have a hard time talking to people about. These are the times that make me miss my father so much I ache. The only "advice" he ever gave me was this: "You're a smart girl, and you know what's best for you better than I ever could." But I knew that he really meant it; that he would always - without question or comment - support any decision that I made simply because I'd been the one to make it.

My god, I miss him.

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