Last Thursday (aka Veteran's Day) was the 6th anniversary of my dad's passing. So naturally, I have been missing him more than usual lately and would love to just be able to talk to him and have him tell me I'm on the right path, I'm going to be okay, I will be happy again and I'm not making bad decisions and completely screwing up my life. I really don't think I am asking for too much.
Since Dad has died I have had several dreams of him-most notably, the one where he told me James was going to die. Well, okay, he said James was leaving me and never coming back; he wasn't that specific as to how final it was going to be. But in 6 years, I don't remember a dream with my dad that was nice. Normally, he's pretty angry with me about something or siding with my evil ex-stepmother against me. It would be nice to know why he's so mad at me.
But even with all the negative dreams I still asked him for a sign I would be okay. I asked over and over for a glimpse that there was someone out there for me-that I'm not going to be alone for the rest of my life. And a glimpse is exactly what I got.
Last Sunday was the day we fell back for Daylight Savings Time and I am not adjusting to the time change. My alarm goes off at 5:45 and I keep waking up at exactly 5:00, which is frustrating and results in a tired, cranky Heather. Last Friday was the same. I had gone to a volunteer project at the Food Bank, followed by dinner with my friends who volunteered with me. I got to bed at 11:15 (instead of my usual 10:00) so waking up 45 minutes early was the last thing I needed. But that is when my internal clock decided it was time to get up. Which of course woke Charlie up and there's really no chance of going back to sleep if he's up and anxious for his breakfast.
Nonetheless, I was laying there trying to go back to sleep-willing myself to fall asleep, actually, when I saw "him." I just knew he was the person I was supposed to meet. He was wearing loose black pants-possibly sweats and a light (tannish) color jacket that reminded me of James' best friends' fishing vest, only it was a fill-length coat. His hand was "plumpish" but I didn't get the impression he was overweight. He's taller than I am and he's caucasian. I was disappointed in that he was not who I wanted him to be and tried to change the vision, but it remained the same. I found myself thinking "God, he's a dork." (Good thing dorkiness is high on my list of criteria. Although he was on the high side of the dork scale). I don't know what his face looks like, what color hair he has (Oh Lord, do NOT let him be a redhead!!!). I don't know where he was standing-it was dark all around him. I guess I am only supposed to know it is him by what he is wearing.
I really need to learn to be more specific in what I'm asking for.