It’s been awhile since I dreamt of, or at least remember dreaming of, my dad.
I was in a small gift shop type store, which sold dance apparel, shoes and accessories, as well as toys, and struck up a conversation with another person who was shopping there. I recall the person had a shopping basket they were carrying and appeared to be buying a child size pair of tap shoes. I vaguely recall them sharing it was their child’s first pair of tap shoes. The person and I were chatting a lot while we were both shopping in this one area of the store. We were standing in front of a tall open shelving unit that looked like the type a lot of people have in basement storage areas, including our family.
At one point the person took a Scooby-Doo themed View-Master toy down from the top shelf. In that moment I realized that the entire time I’d been in the store I hadn’t looked up as high as the top shelves, as I must’ve been both window shopping and looking at my phone. The person and I then briefly talked about mobile phone culture and how that leads to people not looking up as often.
A note about the Scooby-Doo View-Master, I am fascinated that this one very specific detail stuck out in my memory of my dream soon after I woke up. Also, I didn’t actually know or remember there was such a thing and looked it up this morning. This is what I found. The one in my dream was shaped differently, more like the traditional red View-Master design and I think it had more Scooby-Doo purple on it’s exterior. However, I am still amused that such a thing even existed in the first place.
Now to the part of the dream which in Dad showed up… I think I *saw* him a few times moving through the store, we made eye contact and smiled at each other. It seemed crowded in those moments, which in retrospect seems odd, as I don’t recall others being in the store before that. He was walking unassisted, without a cane or rollator, as he used later in his life. I have a vague memory of walking through the store at one point and encountering Dad, we sort of bumped shoulders as we passed each other.
Then, right before our alarm went off this morning, I was moving to a different section of the store, away from where the person and I had been standing and chatting, though I could still see them nearby/ahead of me shopping. I saw my Dad again and this time he was smiling with his mouth closed, as he did sometimes. I said, “Hi” out loud. That detail seemed meaningful to me, that I said it out loud, as opposed to quietly to myself. I might have even gently hugged him, as I had that sense when I reflected on what happened in my dream.
I remember in that moment (after speaking the word “Hi” out loud to my dad) saying to the person I’d been chatting with earlier (as it occurred to me they probably couldn’t see my dad), “you can’t see him.” I think I was trying to confirm that they couldn’t see him. And then I followed that statement up with something like, “that’s because he’s dead.” I recall kind of smiling too myself and being somewhat amused.
I woke up soon after that.
It was such a small sweet glimpse of my dad and I will take it.
This experience also reminded me that have yet to dream of my mom since she died.
I had two years and 12 days to grieve my dad’s death before Mom died. Since then, seven months and four days ago, my grief has been mostly focused on missing her, though at times my grief for both of them intermingles.
I was always conscious while Mom was still alive, after Dad died, of not talking too much about my grief for him around her, as I wanted to be clear how grateful I was that she was still here.
The first time I dreamt of dad after he died was two years and four days ago (2/15/22), about 7 1/2 months after he died.
The second and only other time was on 6/27/22, almost a year after he died:
I rarely remember my dreams these days. Earlier on in my life, as navigated grief with a strong progressive Catholic faith, I might have believed encounters like this were a sign from my dad, God or both. However, at this age and stage, when I identify more as agnostic, I am not sure what to make of such magical dreams.
I still hope for and find comfort in the possibility of an afterlife and I’ve come to appreciate other ways to *communicate* and feel connected to my parents and other loved ones who I can’t see (in the literal sense) anymore, especially if their existence/souls have not continued in some way after they died.
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