In dreams the impossible is possible, but there will always be something to remind me that it isn’t real, no matter how much I wish it.
My Dad has come to me often in my dreams over the years, always young, fit and healthy. The one time I reached out my hand to touch him, he backed away, smiled at me and raised his hand as if to say ‘Not yet’.
In one dream, I realised it was not my true Dad as although it was all so very real, this man was clearly left-handed, and my Dad was not. As soon as I subconsciously processed that thought, I awoke and my dream evaporated.
I dreamt of Mum a few nights ago. The detail in my dream was quite stunning.
We were making her bed and changed her duvet cover to one I’d given her many years ago.
It was white with huge blue blossoms on it and blue piping along the frilly edge. She had a matching fitted bottom sheet and pillow cases, but it was the sheet that drew my interest.
It was faded and threadbare, hardly holding together in places, so I said to her
‘You really ought to think about getting some new sheets Mum.’
She looked at me across the bed, and laughed.
‘I don’t think that’s really going to matter now Love.’
It was typical Mum’s logic and I woke up smiling.
I miss them both.