The night Dad died I dreamed he lifted me from one bed and carried me to another. It began as a being-pulled-from-the-bed dream, but I felt his presence doing what he’d done countless times in the past after he’d worked late in his garage. I’d fall asleep next to Mom and he’d carry me down the hallway to my bed.
4 thoughts on “255/365 The night Dad died”
What a sweet picture, Dona. He looks so handsome, strong, and protective.
This is such a lovely, kind dream.
Wow, what a wonderful, comforting dream.