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captain_slinkyTHE TWO-LINE DREAM POST RULE: If you spend more than two lines posting about your dream, I'm gonna tl;dr it (skip over it). However, last night was the second night this month that I had this same dream, and so I'm going to type it out in hopes that writing it, vocalizing it, seeing it in black-and-white on the screen in front of me... this might let me sleep better at night. And so as I do with YOUR Dream Posts that are longer than two lines, please feel free to skip over this. I won't be offended, honest! Subject is my Dad and his favorite holiday, Thanksgiving.
The dream takes place on Thanksgiving at my parents place in Mount Vernon. The table and extensions to the table via card tables and whatnot extend into the living room, as is usually the case, and it's already been set with table cloths and the best plates, but there's no food on the table. The feeling is that we have all just been called to the table for dinner, and sitting at the table is just me and my Dads (plural).
Rushing around and smiling, getting drinks for everyone and being super-happy at hosting the event is my Dad from around 1990 or so, wearing his Anchor Inn Pool Team T-Shirt that you can fold to make it say "F*CK YOU" if you do it just right. He's constantly dashing around the room and ducking into the kitchen to check on the Turkey.
Seated across from me and just a bit down towards the head of the table is my Dad from about 2005 or so, whenever it was that they moved in to the house in Mount Vernon. Dressed in his plaid flannel shirt and slacks with his cane and his glass of wine, he's not too talkative but is really happy to just be there as well and can hardly wait for the Turkey Neck.
Seated directly across from me are The Twins - The coherent-but-mumbly and the confused-and-combative versions of my Dad that he switched back and forth between during his final months of life. They're arguing like little kids - like 12-year-old brothers - and are oblivious of anything else going on around them except for when somebody tells them to knock it off, then they notice I'm there and smile at me before Combative-Dad gives Mumbly-Dad a Wet Willie and it starts all over between them.
...And then I become aware that it's a dream, and I know that since I now know it's a dream I'm about to wake up. Only I don't want to wake up because I know there's one person I haven't seen yet. One version of my Dad that I know is there and that I want to talk to and tell stuff to and just *be around* and...
...And there he is in his big, grey sweater at the head of the table, kind of slunk-down in his seat like he's trying to avoid being seen but he's having a BALL! Smiling so happy and he's got this look of disbelief that he's so lucky to be experiencing all of this! It makes me SO HAPPY to see him and yet also EXTREMELY SAD that I'm waking up and that I can't keep the dream going so I can be with him longer. Just before I wake up, he laugh-says something really quick to me that always gets lost in the bleary-eyed landscape between Sleep and Consciousness.
All I know is that I wake up crying and can't get back to sleep. I'll be glad when Thanksgiving is over :(
The dream takes place on Thanksgiving at my parents place in Mount Vernon. The table and extensions to the table via card tables and whatnot extend into the living room, as is usually the case, and it's already been set with table cloths and the best plates, but there's no food on the table. The feeling is that we have all just been called to the table for dinner, and sitting at the table is just me and my Dads (plural).
Rushing around and smiling, getting drinks for everyone and being super-happy at hosting the event is my Dad from around 1990 or so, wearing his Anchor Inn Pool Team T-Shirt that you can fold to make it say "F*CK YOU" if you do it just right. He's constantly dashing around the room and ducking into the kitchen to check on the Turkey.
Seated across from me and just a bit down towards the head of the table is my Dad from about 2005 or so, whenever it was that they moved in to the house in Mount Vernon. Dressed in his plaid flannel shirt and slacks with his cane and his glass of wine, he's not too talkative but is really happy to just be there as well and can hardly wait for the Turkey Neck.
Seated directly across from me are The Twins - The coherent-but-mumbly and the confused-and-combative versions of my Dad that he switched back and forth between during his final months of life. They're arguing like little kids - like 12-year-old brothers - and are oblivious of anything else going on around them except for when somebody tells them to knock it off, then they notice I'm there and smile at me before Combative-Dad gives Mumbly-Dad a Wet Willie and it starts all over between them.
...And then I become aware that it's a dream, and I know that since I now know it's a dream I'm about to wake up. Only I don't want to wake up because I know there's one person I haven't seen yet. One version of my Dad that I know is there and that I want to talk to and tell stuff to and just *be around* and...
...And there he is in his big, grey sweater at the head of the table, kind of slunk-down in his seat like he's trying to avoid being seen but he's having a BALL! Smiling so happy and he's got this look of disbelief that he's so lucky to be experiencing all of this! It makes me SO HAPPY to see him and yet also EXTREMELY SAD that I'm waking up and that I can't keep the dream going so I can be with him longer. Just before I wake up, he laugh-says something really quick to me that always gets lost in the bleary-eyed landscape between Sleep and Consciousness.
All I know is that I wake up crying and can't get back to sleep. I'll be glad when Thanksgiving is over :(
