The man in the road

This is absolutely a self-indulgent post about a dream I had last night, but I wanted to write it down before it gets hazy. I've only dreamt about Dad 5 times since he died (yes, I very much count them).


I was in New York, it was snowing, and I was trying to cross a busy road.  There were no crossings & I wasn't going to get across in one go, so I ran to the middle.  Suddenly my Dad was there in the middle of the road, wearing a white suit and this strange white hat, like something the Statue of Liberty would wear.  But that wasn't startling because he always dressed eccentrically (perhaps not quite so much!).  He just looked healthy and strikingly tall, like he had before he got ill.  Calmly, he grabbed me to pull me out of the way of the traffic, just incredible calmness, then told me to look at something over my shoulder.  I turned around and saw a ray of sunlight starting to melt the snow.  It was mesmerising.  I turned around and he was gone.

I knew at that moment with absolute certainty that I was dreaming, so it wasn't upsetting, just comforting.  All pretty bloody symbolic, from one atheist to another. He would have absolutely despaired that I was writing this down, and rightly so.

I told Charlotte this morning and she made me repeat it 3 times.