I had a dream the other night about my Dad. It was a stupid inconsequential dream. I think we were playing checkers or throwing ball or something. No part of Dream Kim knew that her Dad was really dead; so she wasn’t doing anything special with her time with him. She wasn’t asking him about her childhood or his, she wasn’t going in for one last hug, she wasn’t even trying to memorize his face since it’s faded in the years since he’s been gone.
No…Dream Kim was just passively throwing the ball to her dead Father, like any other day.
But the weird thing was that I woke up suddenly. I’m not sure why, but I jolted awake and his voice…his real voice…was still ringing in my ears. I could still hear the echo of the conversation we had been having about nothing special. It was there…ringing in my mind like he had been right there seconds before, speaking to me.
I tried to replay it again and again…but it was just an echo and my mind was letting go of it even as I was so desperately trying to hold onto it.
I don’t think I realized how much I missed his voice until that moment. I was equally thrilled with Dream Kim for bringing me that fading echo of his voice, and angry towards her for not telling him she loved him one more time. I would have given anything in that moment to hear him say it back to me and to have that echo in my mind.
Even if only for a moment.