I dreamed of Dad again last night. I wish I could remember him before he got I’ll; while he still had some joy in life. Though when I think of it, he did try to take as much pleasure in life as he was able, right up to the end. It’s just that the suffering of those last few months so dominates my thoughts of him now.
I dreamed we were on one of our family vacations and we all wanted to go shopping and then have dinner. Dad wasn’t feeling very well, but he wanted to go, too. We started out, but it soon got to be too much for him so we headed back, supporting him as we went.
As we walked along music wafted out from one of the buildings. Dad grabbed my arms and spun me a few times around in a slow waltz. I was overjoyed that he felt well enough to do that.
It so felt exactly like something he would do. It’s been bringing tears to my eyes all day. I miss him so much.