Dreams
Oh Nicky! I can only imagine...I read your post with trepidation as I don't think its that long now before I will be going through similar emotions and like you I hope to God (despite the feeling that he hasn't done anywhere near enough for Dad over the last 10yrs) that if it is possible Dad will be happy again finally when he does pass on.
The other night I had a dream of Dad and in it he was sitting on the couch recovering from his recent operation...as I walked by him I noticed he looked more there than usual so I paused and said, 'Gee Dad you are looking well' and he actually looked back at me, really looked at me so I leant into him with both of my hands on his knees and looked into his eyes..and then blow me away he looked staright back into them and said (he hasn't spoken in years now) 'My, haven't you gotten older!' as if he hadn't seen me, truly seen me for years. I was astounded but thrilled as you can imagine (not realising this was all just a dream). Then Dad slowly stood up, (something else he hasn't been able to do by himself for a few years now) he was a bit wobbly, but he managed to do it, then he took a few wobbly steps (he hasn't done that for a few weeks now)...
I was worried he might fall, but my heart was pounding a 100miles an hour thrilled by what I was beholding, he walked across the room, wobbly at first but getting better and better at it and then next thing I knew he was running, and I was running alonside him (i'm getting teary just remembering)...I kept thinking what a wonderful miracle this was, and how were the doctors going to explain this, and wondering if it would last but not caring even if it didn't to have him back at least for now was all I could ever ask for. But then as he ran, something else began to happen he seemed to get younger and younger and before long we were in a field and he was kicking a rugby ball (something he used to be really into in his 20s), he was happy young and free, we were happy together, me delighting in his wellness...then I woke up.
Waking up was painful as of course I remembered that none of it was true and Dad was still very sick and tortured by this disease, so I bawled my eyes out over breakfast. But then I began thinking...I used to say to Dad when he first stopped being able to talk, that that was ok, because I often had dreams of him and I said to him, you just come and talk to me in my dreams ok? We can still share that. And I began to hope that it wasn't just my mind being cruel to me, but that Dad had come to me in my dreams, as I have been very worried that he is going to die soon, somewhere deep inside I am hoping that he was telling me he is going to be alright, that once he passes on, he's going to be back, he's going to be that young rugby player again and he's going to be happy. Wouldn't that be marvellous?
One day when I too eventually die, I am going to be ever so excited to see him again, we're going to catch up, he's not going to be my Dad anymore but we're going to be best of friends as I really do believe we must have been best of buddies before we ever came into this world! We have ever so much to chat about!
For your sake, your mum's, my dad's and mine I hope my dreams are true!
Hugs,