As my favorite Op-ed author Jim Anchower would say, I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya but in case you haven't noticed I've been neck deep in it these days. As it turns out cancer is not nearly as fun as it seems. Since September 5th it's been a sad and bizarre odyssey. I've wanted to get back to writing for a week or so now but haven't had the heart until I woke up this morning. You see, I finally had a dream with my Dearly Departed Dad in it.
It was a rather odd dream. I was at some kind of Charity Softball Benefit where everyone was dressed to the nines while also taking bp, working on their fielding and splitting up into teams for a nail biter of a game. I've got such a deep seeded need for competition that even in my dream I was crashing into the catcher (a mother of three that I graduated high school with) while attempting to score the game tying run. Despite what was probably a set of broken ribs she hung onto the ball and I was out. After arguing with the ump (my jr. high history teacher) I was ejected. I stormed off the field and joined my Lovely Girlfriend, My Mom and Sister and My Dearly Departed Dad at a lavishly set banquet table just off the field.
I have not seen my Dad, in physical form or in a dream, since he passed at 10:38pm on 9/9/11 - in room 627 if you're keeping track. He looked good. He looked like he always did during his many years as an attorney working so hard to set the bar so low for acceptable court room attire. He had on a short sleeve dress shirt - the Sipowicz, as I call it - unbuttoned at the top with a bollo tie, a worn blazer, a pair of wheaty jeans capped of with a pair of boat shoes and no socks. To be clear, wheaty jeans are just tan-ish jeans that give the appearance of khakis but aren't quite so dressy. To sum it up, my Dad was as spiffed up as you could ever get him. Also at the table were a number of couples that My Lovely Girlfriend and I are friends with. People I've known for the better part of my life in most occasions.
My Dad did not speak. He followed the conversation with his eyes, his smile and his laugh. I kept making eye contact with him, waiting for him to weight in but he never did. His expression said it all. I could read his response without needing to actually hear it. The topic of conversation turned to long term relationships. A few couples had been together since high school or just after, others for five or ten years, still others for just a few. Everyone deferred to my folks as they had been together for all of our lifetimes. When asked exactly how long they'd been together for some reason I answered for them. I don't know if I'll ever forget what I said in my dream. "They celebrated their forty-fifth about two weeks before my Dad passed. What are you doing here anyway?" Everyone turned to him on the question. He gave a wicked grin and a shrug, like he'd been caught red handed without any possible excuse. He just giggled. I woke up.
Now I could go into a lengthy debate about all of this. What kind of message this may have been and what it all means. But the truth of the matter is I have no idea what this dream means. I'm not going to try to interpret it. I'm just happy to see my Father again.
It was a rather odd dream. I was at some kind of Charity Softball Benefit where everyone was dressed to the nines while also taking bp, working on their fielding and splitting up into teams for a nail biter of a game. I've got such a deep seeded need for competition that even in my dream I was crashing into the catcher (a mother of three that I graduated high school with) while attempting to score the game tying run. Despite what was probably a set of broken ribs she hung onto the ball and I was out. After arguing with the ump (my jr. high history teacher) I was ejected. I stormed off the field and joined my Lovely Girlfriend, My Mom and Sister and My Dearly Departed Dad at a lavishly set banquet table just off the field.
I have not seen my Dad, in physical form or in a dream, since he passed at 10:38pm on 9/9/11 - in room 627 if you're keeping track. He looked good. He looked like he always did during his many years as an attorney working so hard to set the bar so low for acceptable court room attire. He had on a short sleeve dress shirt - the Sipowicz, as I call it - unbuttoned at the top with a bollo tie, a worn blazer, a pair of wheaty jeans capped of with a pair of boat shoes and no socks. To be clear, wheaty jeans are just tan-ish jeans that give the appearance of khakis but aren't quite so dressy. To sum it up, my Dad was as spiffed up as you could ever get him. Also at the table were a number of couples that My Lovely Girlfriend and I are friends with. People I've known for the better part of my life in most occasions.
My Dad did not speak. He followed the conversation with his eyes, his smile and his laugh. I kept making eye contact with him, waiting for him to weight in but he never did. His expression said it all. I could read his response without needing to actually hear it. The topic of conversation turned to long term relationships. A few couples had been together since high school or just after, others for five or ten years, still others for just a few. Everyone deferred to my folks as they had been together for all of our lifetimes. When asked exactly how long they'd been together for some reason I answered for them. I don't know if I'll ever forget what I said in my dream. "They celebrated their forty-fifth about two weeks before my Dad passed. What are you doing here anyway?" Everyone turned to him on the question. He gave a wicked grin and a shrug, like he'd been caught red handed without any possible excuse. He just giggled. I woke up.
Now I could go into a lengthy debate about all of this. What kind of message this may have been and what it all means. But the truth of the matter is I have no idea what this dream means. I'm not going to try to interpret it. I'm just happy to see my Father again.
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