Friday, March 13, 2015
Letters To My Father
I started dreaming about my father soon after he died. They were stunningly vivid dreams, so palpable and real. I felt his touch and heard his voice like he was there with me and more than just my synapses firing in the night.
I wrote all the dreams down in the journal. The page always began, "Dear Dad..." I started to tell him stories of the family, what was happening in our lives. I told him of politics and wars. I told him of other family members who joined him there in world of the dead. I wrote down poems I found that helped me grieve.
Someone told me once that I probably shouldn't keep such a journal, because I would punish myself if I decided to stop writing in it. But I couldn't stop. My love for my father is still a part of my life, and writing him notes has been a wonderful ongoing story. Now, my family calls me to ask me to check the journals to see if I had written down something important that needed to be remembered, and when it happened. I always find it. I'm now well into my fourth journal.
Tonight my family will light a yahrzeit candle at sundown. It will burn all night and all day tomorrow. We will remember my father with a light and love that lasts forever. I will write him a note in the journal, it will begin, "Dear Dad..."
Posted by robin andrea at 9:54 PM