Sweet Dreams are made of this....

I like dreaming, I like being able to fly, out run zombies, run like Paula Radcliff, swim like Michael Phelps, be all sorts of glamorous, desirable, sexy and non-mom like. Then waking up and revelling in the after glow. Some dreams you forget, some come flickering back to you and you get snippets of what happened, some embarrass you and you think why on earth did I dream that about him (or her) and it makes it difficult to look that person in the eye again lol.

And some you cherish. They're like a gift and make you smile all day long.

I am smiling today.

I was going to a Rangers game. I can't remember who I was with. I am thinking it was MiMi, my best friend who was killed in a car accident the week after my oldest was born. We used to go see the Rangers at the Garden. We'd sit up in the Blues and enjoy the fights in the stands as much as watching Ron Dugay and Pierre LaRouche skate around *le sigh*. We'd look for Carol Alt and all of the other Rangers wives and girl friends, and oh yeah, we watched the game too.

I digress, anyway, I walked into what was obviously an aquatic center, but of course the Rangers were playing there, hey it's my dream, it could happen! I looked up in the stands and I saw him, sitting next to my Godfather was my dad. He burst into this huge smile when he saw me and started waving and calling to me. He looked so handsome in his Hickey Freeman suit, I used to go shopping with him, the man could dress, and healthy, not like he was at the end of his life. He came tearing down the stands and I ran to him, and he hugged me. I haven't felt that hug in over 8 years, but as real as the tears that are trickling down my cheeks right now, I swear it was real, and felt so good, and safe and familiar. For those few precious seconds in my dream world, I was with my dad again. I could smell him, and feel him, and hear him and I was with him again, his little girl, for just a split second. Then he said he had to leave me. Like real life, he had to go, and then the crowd swallowed him as I so frantically begged him to stay and followed after him. But like all good dreams, it had to end and he was gone poof....

I woke up this morning and I realized I was smiling. Because you see, I believe dad came to me last night. I can count on one hand the amount of times I dreamed of him since he died. Each dream is like a gift to me. Another moment with dad that I cannot have while I am awake. Today I am awash with happy memories of dad. I cannot help but smile and be thankful for the sleeping gift that I was given.

Although I miss you Pop your visit last night was wonderful. Indeed, sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree?