Subconscious fears

Had a horrible dream that Daddy had some kind of irreversible condition in his chest. Apparently doctors had operated on him but the side of his chest was still "aflame" inside and they couldn't go back in to operate, and he, Mama, and I were in the grocery shop. He said something along the lines of I better say goodbye now, and I thought it was just his normal, dire outlook. Then we saw one of my uncles and his wife. They looked as though they were trying to ignore us but I ran to get them so they could talk to Daddy. I saw my uncle hug my dad and then I asked Mama if it was serious. Was all this serious? Her look said yes.

Somehow I ended up in these movie theatre-like seats, still not having said goodbye. But it was finally my time. Dad looked gaunt, pale, and skinny. I hugged him for a long time and thanked him for everything he'd taught me and told him that I would teach my kids those things, just basically every good thing I've ever thought about him in my mind--it all came rushing out. I don't know what happened in the dream after that.

Now, is this all because I feel guilty for not having called my dad at all this weekend? Could be. My mind is processing that guilt from my subconscious during the same period I'm in the dream state. Could it also be processing my fear of losing my dad, my yearning for the long talks we used to have prior to his stroke? Possibly. My brain constantly chews on 1) my inability to realize I have to lose my parents one day and 2) the reality and shock of my daddy's stroke and it's aftermath.

My dad will never be the man he was before June 24, 2006. This is all well and good on paper. It is there as a fact. But when I hear him tell me "I'm sick, I'm sick" or "I don't read much anymore...I can't follow the story line, you know?" I am shaken. My 29-year-old brain is shot out of a universe where Daddy is wise enough to admonish and advise and vulnerable enough to admit his faults, and into a world where I sit patiently waiting while his tongues taps his palate searching for the word that his brain knows but can't send to his mouth.

I saw waiting today, on the phone with my father while taking a walk. He's telling me he was just about to call his job b/c someone left a message for him. He's gotta be sure that the guy he works with who sets things up for him will be there. Since the stroke, he doesn't trust himself to set up this accounting stuff (that he's been doing for almost 20 years), b/c "I'm still not all here." And what daddy's girl can handle hearing that? So I quickly break the ice by saying, "Well it's good he's looking out for you, right? Settin' up the stuff?" He sighs yes; it is a good thing. We joke and laugh and he asks about the new city, about my brother.

One thing that hasn't changed is he picks up on my moods w/out me having to say much. He tells me to take care of myself in my new surroundings and to be careful and "God bless you" as he so frequently sends me off.

And him too.