I had a dream of my dad last night. It was fleeting but I was preparing for him to visit me at my home. I was so, so, excited. I was racing around preparing in eager anticipation. I was ecstatic and just so happy.
He arrived and walked with a limp. He said something about his hip and arthritis. I was so eager to see him that I was in a rush to show him our property, to ask him to stay with us for a week, to show him the golf course up the street and encourage him to play. I was in a rush to get the words out to show him all that he hasn't seen.
His eyes were kind and crinkly but also watery and troubled. Like he had gone to war and survived. I imagine his eyes looked like they would have had he survived.
I woke up feeling satisfied to have had a dream of him but sad all the same. So bittersweet getting this glimpse of him, if only in a dream.
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