I had the first dream about my father 2 nights ago. I was dreading this. For some reason I knew that when I finally did have a dream about him, it most likely would not be a good one.
In the dream I was walking through all these different rooms and in each one my father was asking me for help but there was glass between us and I would bang on it, tell, try to get through to that room but he would never hear me. It was like I wasn’t even there.
I woke up sweating and feeling unbelievably stressed. I just couldn’t shake it. I try to not put too much into my dreams, but it also really activated me. For days I have not been able to shake it.
I have all these questions CONSTANTLY circling through my head. Did he suffer when he was dying? Did he just fall asleep? Did he regret it afterwards but was too messed up to do anything? Why didn’t I call? Why? All the what if’s are constant like a flood and some days I feel like I’m drowning.
I’m anxious to immerse myself in projects soon. I have yet to open his laptop. Wedding season ends the 11th of November to me. For some reason I see that as a finish line. If I can just keep my head above water until then, follow through on all commitments, and just push through then I can allow myself a couple days to just break down and then really dive into some of the projects I have really wanted to start with his photographs.
Monday will be 1 month since he died. It still feels like yesterday….
Photograph taken by my father.