In the over nine years since my dad died, I’ve only ever had two dreams where he showed up. The first one happened within the first couple weeks after he died. Over nine years later, the second one occurred on Thursday night.
The first dream was so vivid. My dad, mom, younger brothers, and I were all in the car heading to the next town. I was confused since we had never all crammed into the small car – the last time we were in a car together, my parents owned a van. I was sitting in the backseat and I looked up and saw my dad. I sat there confused – I remembered very vividly that my dad had died. He was cremated – there was no body any longer. But yet – there he was – driving the car. I looked up at him and I still remember the conversation we had in that dream over nine years ago. “Dad – you died. I remember you dying. How are you here if you don’t have a body anymore,” I questioned him. He looked in the rearview mirror at me and said, “God knew you needed me, so He sent me back. But I can’t stay. I have to go back.” And in an instance, a sense of peace washed over me. “Okay,” I told him as we continued on our way.
I woke up the next morning completely at ease for the first time in weeks. My dad’s words echoing in my head “God knew you needed me…” because in that moment over nine years ago – I really did need my dad. And I always felt like maybe that was God’s way of letting me know that if I ever really truly needed my dad, that He would send him back to me a in dream. That when I was crying on the floor because I felt like my whole world was falling apart, that He would sent him presence to me so I could calm down and remember to take a deep breath. That when I was smiling and happy and finally enjoying life again, that my dad would be smiling down on me.
Silly – right? But if that’s what I believe and that’s what helps me on the good days and the bad days, that’s what I need. Because missing my dad always hurts.
The dream on Thursday night came out of the blue. I don’t remember most of my dreams to begin with, but I was very involved with this one. I was an adult, same age as I am now. I was back in our old trailer – the one I grew up in for the first decade or so of my life. My new bike and bike trailer (for the dogs of course!) was outside. I had an urge to go home – for though I was in the trailer I grew up in, I knew my home was my current city. I was thinking about how I couldn’t ride my bike on the interstate – that was too dangerous, so I was going to have to take the long way home. I questioned if I could make the bike ride, if the dogs would be okay, if I would be okay. I never once questioned where my car was. I grabbed a container of dog food and added it to the trailer – the dogs was ironically no where to be found. And then as I looked back up, I saw my dad. He was getting up early in the morning to head to work. As I saw him, I ran over to him and gave him a hug. And for a moment – however brief the moment was – I was safe and sound in my dad’s arms. He didn’t say anything. He just wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back. And then I woke up grateful that God had once again sent my dad back to me.
But why did he come back to me? I wasn’t missing him anymore than normal. It wasn’t his birthday or the anniversary of his death. Father’s Day hadn’t happened yet. Why did my dad show up in my dream when I remember so few of my dreams.
I started to try to analysis my dream. Going over every element. I knew where home was in present day – does that mean I’m on the right path? I was able to turn around and give my dad a hug – does that mean that he’s still by my side after all these years? Did God send him back to me as a way of reassuring me that all the choices and decisions I’ve made lately that I’m so unsure of are the right ones? Was it his way of letting me know that it’s okay to move on – it really is – and that he’ll always be there when I really need him? That it’s okay to hold onto my dream of Flynn and keeping heading towards the family I dream of and that he’s okay with letting me fly and leave the house? I didn’t move out until after my dad died.
Or maybe it was just a dream. I wonderful dream. Out of the blue and completely unexpected, but very welcomed. A way of getting to see my dad again. And give him another hug.
chelsshearman 