I woke up at 04.15 on Friday morning, right from an incomplete dream. It felt like some kind of internal forces urged me to stop. It didn’t let me to get to the end, it didn’t let me to see the outcome, it would be too frightening. It´s my father cycling in a dark cold evening, he looks fatigue. He doesn’t notice me standing on the side road, he´s in a hurry, struggling to catch up something. I cries out “Dad” so he turns to me, showing no sign to stop. His tired face is covered with deep wrinkles. He has to get some medicines before the pharmacy gets closed, I´m told. So he carries on.
Then I woke up, with that odd feeling. Something is wrong with my father, the dream is telling me something. He needs help, he must be in a desperate situation, he must be having a stroke as he did ten years ago. My mother is in another country and won´t be back until the middle of October, he´s left alone. I was panicked by these frightening thoughts, instinctively, I picked up the phone and pressed the numbers I knew would reach him. The phone was ringing but no one answered. Ignoring the female voice advising me to leave a message, I made a second attempt while figuring out what I was going to do next if the call wasn’t answered this time either. A familiar voice came from the other side, it was my father, he was fine, just a bit puzzled by the call. It was 04.20. Far too early. The heart found its way back to where it belonged to. It was a great relief. No, nothing wrong, not this time, my father is ok. But what does the dream intend to tell me, an important message?
Although he has never made it explicit, I know my father loves me. His emotions are usually well hidden behind his reserved manner. My father was born in the middle of 1940s, right before the end of WW2. As the youngest of six children, his existence was certainly a burden to his parents. At the age of 6, my biological grandparents decided to have him adopted. How did the little boy handle his emotions when his adoptive parents came and picked him up? Was he prepared? Was he attempting to make the last effort to change his parents´mind so they would let him stay? Where were his brothers and sisters? Were they informed that they were going to lose their little brother? These thoughts have followed me for ages. There must be some kind of memory, but my father has never showed any interest in talking about his childhood. It was the last time he saw his family. The parting.
I used to be very close to my father but the bond between us has weakened over the past 10 years. There´s something more than the generation gap, our personal values towards life differ considerably. It must have been a gradual process so when I realised it, the gap was already substantial. And in addition, I must have believed that I´m so well informed and educated that my opinions are superior to his.
I visited my father late in the evening, bringing him his favourite food and fruits. The talk went smoothly, I noticed that his hair has turned completely grey. He was pleased, very pleased that “I took time to pay him a visit”. It was sad.
I think I´ve figured out the meaning of the dream, it intends to tell me that life will come to an end and I´m going to lose him one day. It reminds me to take care of the time I have with my father before it´s too late. So I will.