Dreams and Ghosts…

Last night I had a dream my father stabbed someone to death, slicing into them again and again and again. The person wouldn’t die, so I helped my father, raising a short knife, plunging it into the person’s flesh. Then, as my father was brought to court, I shadowed him, found ways to be near him, to convey messages to him, meeting with his lawyer, helping him out.

(Wait, my husband interrupted me, as I told him this dream, I know what happened next, your father stood up in court and said you should be prosecuted and he is innocent, because you were really responsible for the person’s death! My husband is still indignant about my father’s attitudes and abuses, while I am merely resigned).

It was my father’s birthday yesterday. I didn’t call him to wish him happy birthday. We’ve had another falling out (can you fall out of something that’s barely there?).

We never celebrated his birthday growing up, but I guess, on some level, it registered. Perhaps it’s the painful realization that he’s getting older, year by year, and any hope of reconciliation fades as his old age and eventual death loom.

Years pass, new worlds are built, but sometimes the pain of the ghosts of past can still rise and hurt us…..