A hand on my shoulder

I can always tell when there's something bothering me or just on my mind, since my subconscious tends to cast my dad in a cameo role in one of my dreams. Usually this is unsettling in itself: no matter what he's doing, his very presence nags at me and tells me there's something not right, all isn't as it should be.

The reasons for this will be obvious to those who might recall previous writings about my dad, namely that he's been dead for well over a decade, in fact closer now to a decade and a half. So whenever he appears in a dream scenario, especially if he appears alive and well, then the residue of feelings I have about him tend to resonate with a disquieting plangency.

It reminds me of another dream I sometimes have, that of a loved family cat. In the dream, the cat is sitting purring, contented, on the hot coals of an open fire. The cat looks well, and happy, but I know it shouldn't be, and I have a sense of dread for what must surely be an inevitability.

Last night, my dad was in my dream, but it was different...very different. I was unsettled by my own circumstances, and here was my dad just nearby. Before I could start to think but...hang on, aren't you already...how come you look healthy? or such like, he stood over me, and put a hand on my shoulder.

A very comforting hand on my shoulder. What was communicated from him to me, powerfully but wordlessly, was, it's ok, don't worry. It'll be alright.

This has never been my dream-projection of him before, and on waking this morning, I was quite startled.