night visitor
I purposely didn’t write about the fifth anniversary of my father’s passing yesterday. I couldn’t really think of what to say or how to say it. I think I am still getting over the various horrors that dropped in 2006, and sometimes can’t muster up the muster.
But suddenly last night I’m inside a madcap dream in which I am in an a capella trio — Dan Savage (the sex columnist), Molly Ringwald, and myself. Showtime’s at 8pm and (in tiresomely typical dream fashion) we had not rehearsed and it’s about 7:45.
I am in a big open-air motorized gondola thing heading to the recital with Dan, Molly, my dad and stepmom. I do not have direct contact with my father, but I’m surprised and pleased that he is coming to my recital (this was not always the case in real life).
I was pleased, of course, until I realized that it was going to be a complete disaster, since we were completely unprepared.
Oh, dream hijinx and dream-ghost visits. Will it never end.
I would very much enjoy to hear this a Capella trio, rehearsed or not.
And I, too, have been having dreams in which my father appears. In my case, it’s highly unpleasant and I want it to stop. Now.
So was it Molly Ringwald from “Pretty in Pink” days or more “The Secret Life of an American Teenager” days? I have now had a repetitive dream where I am always in this same horrible house, I don’t want to keep going back there but, apparently, I own it.