Hold onto your hats, friends, I have to report the most incredible feat, accomplished by my father, who appearing to me in a dream, has come back from the dead! Note, I do not say this was just a dream, or that I dreamed this; I say he appeared to me, via the dream. This is very different, in fact I was worn out by the experience. Even my father is amazed. He said he doesn’t know how this feat was accomplished, which though it has happened to him, he knows he he didn’t accomplish himself. But it was just foisted off on him. Characteristically, he is amazed, and expects that it cannot last. But it has lasted. Of course from my point of view, when I first woke from this I thought, “what a dream!,” and attempted to just relax and meditate on it for a while, sinking back into an even heavier sleep. But there he was again, and it was on the morning of the second day of my fathers revival (that seems like a good word for it: revival), for he was so fully embodied he was more alive than I had ever seen him, sort of more familiar than ever! And that is something, considering that he is my father, and what he always was like. If you knew my father, you couldn’t ask for a more unassuming, graceful gentleman. He had no superior attitudes, and met his own death, six months ago, without a protest. He wasn’t prepared for it, but only seemed to gradually get the message from the way things were happening to him, physically, and the way we all were acting, of course. And I couldn’t find a way to reverse it myself. Now here he was, and he was taking this full-bodied reappearance in life with a boyish amazement. “This can’t last,” he said directly to me, for I was right there. I am telling you, this was just like my father. We always try to understand what it is about those we know so well, how they can be so, you know, just like themselves. Which makes them irreplaceable as people, when they die and are, no matter how we prepare, just not there anymore. So characteristically there right down to the soles of their shoes, which are left in the hospital room. He was always so top of the morning, you know, in his personality, and you knew this indomitable cheerfulness was precisely not of a strength to combat death, if that was coming for him. He exuded that, and even more when he repeated to me, “I didn’t think this could last, but . . . “ pausing for the longest time and looking at the floor. “But it seems to have lasted,” he said, upon my seeing him the second time, in like the replay of the dream, now amplified after I had gone back to it, back to the world this dream took me to, rather!, and then putting out his hands like to say, “these are real.” He was glad I was there, I know that, and I remembered how I had only managed to make it clear to others in my family, and they had acknowledged, how very much alike I and my father were, or always have been, rather. I don’t know whether I actually said, or just thought, “truly, you have a second life!”, but we shared it, in the room together. It was like an examination room, at first, and then with the appearance of a window it was like that second floor outdoor porch in the condominium in Florida, where we would just look out at the sunset, I guess with some cool iced drink on the glass table. There wasn’t any great question about what was going to happen next; it was kind of non-dramatic, really, just an accomplished fact, friends. And so, I now have my father in mind as having conquered death. So there you are! One always feels they should report their dreams accurately, and not embellish them, for they are truth reports; one strives to do this, against the pressure of any less than fully comprehending listeners. It is a rather funny moral obligation one imposes upon oneself. A kind of rule of common sense, or decency in regards to the content of what is presented in such a milieu as dreams. You don’t lie about your dreams, and you don’t go adding scenical elements right off the bat, but report exactly what happened, like in the front of your mind, when, caught unawares, you witness the incredible.

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