A dream, 12/5/14

As a postscript to my earlier post, after falling asleep with my girls, I had a rare dream about my father. He's been gone almost 23 years now, but in my dream, which seemed to be now, he was alive and well. I can't remember most of the dream, though it seemed like he was there for a while. 

Brief digression by way of explanation: my wife and I sometimes take our young children by their two hands and lift them into the air, helping them make a big jump. Sometimes Lauren and I do it between us and sometimes one parent will do it alone. I'd imagine lots of parents do it, though I don't remember that from my own childhood. Of course, by the time we're forming lasting memories, we're a bit big for that kind of thing, I guess.

In my dream, my father took my hands and lifted me up, just like I do my girls. For a moment, I was flying, a sensation that's exactly as amazing as you would think. And I said to myself "You need to appreciate this. He won't always be around." I meant it as though he was still alive, as he was in the dream, but almost immediately I knew it was a dream, and I knew that he was already gone. 

Either still in the dream or waking up just a bit, I found myself in tears. It's amazing that a dream can produce such strong emotions, but there it was.