I’m in a park – green, big trees – and I turn and suddenly I see my father, standing there under a tree.
I can’t believe my eyes. It’s been so long since he died – ten years or more.
“Dad! Dad!” I call, running towards him, holding out my arms. I feel such joy, such relief, such love for him.
He looks at me – and is gone.
I wake up. I find myself crying in the arms of a man who’s ill-treated me, with whom I’m in the process of splitting up.
Maybe it was a visit from the other side. More probably, just a dream. I think at some primal level, I needed a protector at that moment. I wished my dad was still around, so he could stand tall over that evil man, tell him sternly ‘You just stop hurting my little girl!’ – and maybe punch him in the nose so he’d fall down snivelling and bleeding, and then creep away never to disrespect me again. Or maybe it really was Dad popping in to say, it’s alright, I’m still here in a manner of speaking, and you’ll be ok. But then, he wasn’t any more, so I had to stand up for myself, and I did, as ‘orphaned’ adults must. I miss my Dad but!
Have you ever had anything similar happen to you?