A Sweet Dream
Dad has been dead for nearly forty-five years and while it wasn't completely unusual to have dreams about him, I don't recall a period where I dreamed quite so much about him as these last few years since Mom joined him.
This morning's dream took place in Mommyland at just about the time of Dad's death. I was in my early twenties. And, what's unusual is that there wasn't the merest hint that there was anything wrong. We were a happy family. The narrative was that I was anxious to get Dad to like me and needed help from Mom in order to come up with some ideas. Maybe it was because Father's Day was coming up.
Mom came up with the idea of baking some muffins. I don't remember the process. I am struck by how closely this hews to something close to acceptance of my gay identity. The muffins were not perfect, indicating that they were a novel event - more likely the result of my efforts than Mom's. They were a little on the burnt side and the icing would not stay put once they cooled off.
Finding an opportunity to give Dad a sample of our work became the chief object of the remainder of the dream. Apparently, it wasn't easy because the solution proposed by Mom was to slip him a muffin while he was in the shower.
Mom led the way to our tiny upstairs bathroom, first knocking on the door. When Dad answered, Mom opened the door and ushered me to go in. Somehow, one of us (not entirely sure which of us) was able to extend a single, rather dry, muffin through the shower curtain. And, although I did not see his face or witness the scene inside the shower curtain, I did experience an immediate sense of gratitude emanating from the other side.
No sooner did I exit the bathroom than I was called back in, ostensibly to be on the receiving end of some praise or thanks. Instead, and in what I can only desscribe as a sort of prank, Dad indicated that he wanted to show his appreciation by giving e somethin in return. He virtually grabbed my hand and thrust a matted ball of hair and muck into it. He thought it was funny as I recoiled and let it drop into the tub.
Despite the last minute prank, I left Dad feeling elated and pleased with myself. Mom gave me a bit f a session and listened as I gushed. I said something like, "I know, I know. This is like something out of The King and I."
End of dream.
This morning's dream took place in Mommyland at just about the time of Dad's death. I was in my early twenties. And, what's unusual is that there wasn't the merest hint that there was anything wrong. We were a happy family. The narrative was that I was anxious to get Dad to like me and needed help from Mom in order to come up with some ideas. Maybe it was because Father's Day was coming up.
Mom came up with the idea of baking some muffins. I don't remember the process. I am struck by how closely this hews to something close to acceptance of my gay identity. The muffins were not perfect, indicating that they were a novel event - more likely the result of my efforts than Mom's. They were a little on the burnt side and the icing would not stay put once they cooled off.
Finding an opportunity to give Dad a sample of our work became the chief object of the remainder of the dream. Apparently, it wasn't easy because the solution proposed by Mom was to slip him a muffin while he was in the shower.
Mom led the way to our tiny upstairs bathroom, first knocking on the door. When Dad answered, Mom opened the door and ushered me to go in. Somehow, one of us (not entirely sure which of us) was able to extend a single, rather dry, muffin through the shower curtain. And, although I did not see his face or witness the scene inside the shower curtain, I did experience an immediate sense of gratitude emanating from the other side.
No sooner did I exit the bathroom than I was called back in, ostensibly to be on the receiving end of some praise or thanks. Instead, and in what I can only desscribe as a sort of prank, Dad indicated that he wanted to show his appreciation by giving e somethin in return. He virtually grabbed my hand and thrust a matted ball of hair and muck into it. He thought it was funny as I recoiled and let it drop into the tub.
Despite the last minute prank, I left Dad feeling elated and pleased with myself. Mom gave me a bit f a session and listened as I gushed. I said something like, "I know, I know. This is like something out of The King and I."
End of dream.