Dad, Your Ride's Here (A Dream)

I woke up from a dream this morning.

We were at a party in a reception hall with many family members. We were playing, or had just played, a Trivial Pursuit-type game. My uncle Charles said to another man at the table that they should buy copies of the game so that their families could play when they got together. I then turned to my wife Donna and whispered, “I’m going to the store now to get them the game.”

Then my dad appeared in an archway, along with the four-year-old version of my son Jimmy.

Dad had a suitcase. I intuitively knew he had to go somewhere, but was sad to discover he had to leave so soon. I know, the symbolism isn’t exactly subtle, right?

Anyway, Dad said he had to go into the studio — which I realized was, inexplicably, a recording studio — to finish up some work. Jimmy, who was wearing a green/blue/white striped t-shirt, said he wanted to tag along, but Dad was against the idea, noting he was leaving town from the studio and that my great aunt Annabelle was going to be driving him to the airport. Dad didn’t want to leave Jimmy alone at the studio when he left.

I woke up at that point, and had the poignant moment that I had dreamed of my late father. Within seconds though, that warm, fuzzy moment was superseded by an all-together more disturbing revelation:

Annabelle was driving Dad to the airport? What was up with that? As far as I knew, Annabelle never drove in her life. If she ever did, it was probably decades before I came along. It’s hard to imagine Dad sitting in the passenger seat when anybody was driving, let alone Annabelle. And yet, there he was waiting for her to drive him to the airport.

I don’t dream about either of my parents often, or if I do, I don’t generally remember the dreams. It was melancholy but nice that Dad showed up this morning. But honestly, it’s the role of Annabelle — who I last saw alive sometime back in the mid 1980’s — as a continually recurring character in my memories and dreams that continues to beguile me.