Nightmares

I have always had very vivid dreams.  My Daddy used to tease me because not only would I have these dreams but I remembered a large portion of them.  One night as a middle school student I even slept walked into my parents room and pinched him - obviously in a dream I was very angry at him!

A friend that lost her dad a month before me has seen butterflies everywhere.  At first she didn't want to see them as a sign from her dad, but I think now that butterflies have shown up and she's actually challenged them - she sees them as a sign too.  Another friend lost her dad the same week as me.  She has dreams of her dad.

I longed for some sort of sign from my Daddy that he's here and that he knows that we miss him.  I long to feel the comfort of knowing that he is still around and watching over us.  I figured that my Daddy would visit my dreams because of my history and how he used to tease me.  My Daddy showed up in my dreams last night.

Dreams is not actually the correct word.  Nightmares would be better.  I remember at least two horrible nightmares from last night that my Daddy was in.  This is not what I wanted and not what I expected.  I guess I need to stop looking for signs if this is what I get.

If you want to stop here...feel free.  I am going to write about my nightmares just because I need to somehow process them.  Hopefully I will have a more positive blog entry soon.  If anyone would like to analyze these nightmares, feel free.  I've always found dream analyzation facsinating because I do have so many dreams.





In my first dream last night - it took place at the funeral home.  I went to see my Dad's body just one last time.  He was laying on some sort of hospital bed contraption and his body was all contorted like he had been uncomfortable and was trying to get into a comfortable position.  It was then that I realized that when they took him to the funeral home that he had not died at all.  He was still alive and realized that everyone thought he was dead.  He tried and tried to get away and fought the sheet.  Somehow I just knew that he had died struggling to let everyone know that he was not dead.

I woke up in a cold sweat and layed in bed for a bit thinking that when I fell back asleep my dreams would be more pleasant.  That was not to be.

In my second dream - my Daddy was still in the hospital.  He was laying in his hospital bed and I could hear the way he was breathing and he looked just like he looked the night he died.  Everyone left me alone in the room with him and his eyes popped open.  His eyes were cloudy and unresponsive much like they were in his last few days.  But in my nightmare he looked at me and just said, "Help me."

Two simple words.  Help me.  He wanted me to help him.  Simple but haunting.  Help me.  Help me, what Daddy?  Help him die?  Help him live?  Help him talk?  I couldn't get an answer...just Help Me over and over and over.

I couldn't help him.  In my nightmare or in real life.  I couldn't do anything.  Maybe both of these dreams describe how helpless I felt (and feel).  How I wanted to do ANYTHING to make him better.  But I couldn't. 

Now I am afraid to sleep.  I am exhausted but I am afraid to even take a simple nap in case the nightmares return.  I don't want to see my Daddy in my dreams if that is how I am going to see him.  I would rather remember him the way he was when he was healthy but the images and sounds from the hospital haunt me. 

I know that they were simply nightmares.  I need to forget them.  But I need to remember them because I feel the need to hang on to anything that involves him.  The good, the bad and the ugly. 

I miss my Daddy.