Monday, March 24, 2008

Kitchen Dream 2

I was lying on the couch in the den when I looked up and saw a man in a blue sweater standing in the kitchen. He was tall and handsome. I couldn't tell how old he was. Maybe 35? Maybe 50? He stood there quietly. I got up and walked into the kitchen, not sure what to make of the whole situation. Instinctively I knew he wasn't real. He couldn't be. And I understood that. But I stood staring at him, not wanting to disrupt anything, afraid that if I touched him he'd disappear. We both were silent. Finally, preparing myself for disappointment, I slowly reached out and touched his arm. He didn't vanish. I could feel the softness of his sleeve, I think it was cashmere, and I could feel his forearm beneath. He felt real. He reached his arms out, as if to ask for a hug. I threw my arms around his neck and he wrapped his outstretched arms around me. We hugged for a long time. It was one of those full body, never want to let go hugs. Happiness radiated through me and every inch of me felt content. It was wonderful.

And then I woke up.

I think it was my dad.

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