Last night I dreamt that my family and I were viewing my dad's body. For some reason, it was in the living room of this woman's house and she was asking us what we wanted done with him. I was staring at the sheet covering my dad and saw it moving up and down as if he were breathing, then realized he was breathing. I started screaming that he was alive and at first everyone thought I was hysterical but they eventually realized that I was right.
My dad sat up and shook off the sheet covering him. He looked right at me and his entire body - even his eyes - were bluish-white. I asked him if he was okay and slowly the color came back into his face. My sister and brothers and I sat him on a couch. He was talking to us, but the woman who had been preparing his body was talking over him and I kept telling her to shut the fuck up. She bundled him into her car and was going to take him to a morgue and we all kept screaming at her that he was alive, but she drove off with him anyway.
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I have a lot to write about my dad's last days and the time my siblings and I spent at his house afterward and his funeral this past weekend but I just don't have the energy to commit it here yet. I guess it's obvious from the dream that I'm still processing the whole thing.
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Happy, happy times.
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