After my dad died, I remember wanting nothing more than to be “visited” by him in my dreams. I often heard other survivors talk about wonderful dreams they had experienced – some that helped them find closure or assurance that their loved one was now in a better place. It took quite a long time for me to experience a dream. I can’t remember what that first one was about, exactly, but I think it was something pretty random – like a flicker of being at a baseball game together. Lately, as I am nearing the three-year mark since his passing, I am having more frequent dreams about my dad after his death. And, what’s bothersome to me is that nearly all of them have involved some kind of conflict or fight.
Growing up, we did have some fairly harmless “tiffs,” usually about house rules or curfews, etc. Many of these dreams seem to be about rehashing things like this. Why now? I’m not sure. I remember one recently where I was infuriated he wanted to limit the amount of time I was spending on my computer before bed time. In another, I think he was upset about who I was hanging out with… There were a few more of equal silliness but with loose connections to things we likely actually fought about decades ago. It took me back to my high school years (and earlier). On all of these occasions, I remember being in screaming matches with him and woke up shaken, like, “wow, that seemed so realistic!” and feeling like I had really been yelling. I tried to Google the meaning of this, but wasn’t able to come up with much beyond the suggestion that fighting with a deceased loved one might mean there are unresolved issues. This, coupled with the unresolved issues I have with him taking his life in the first place leave me one confused woman!
The good news is that not all of the dreams I’ve had have been “nightmares” like this. I wrote about a beautiful one I had recently that was the polar opposite and gave me that assurance he was in his “happy” place of sunny Arizona. A reader sent us a private message last week about his interpretation of the messages and signs loved ones send us. He suggested that if we open ourselves to receiving them that our loved ones will fill us with the messages they want to send at that particular moment in time. I’m sure I’m twisting some of this, but these dreams had me wondering if my dad was somehow trying to remind me that everything wasn’t perfect, including him. Since he died, I feel like I have put him on a bit of a pedestal, defending his character to myself and others after his tragic act. I think it’s natural after a death or even a break-up to focus on all the amazing characteristics of that person and relationship and forget things that may have been broken about them. I have all but forgotten about some of the things he did that might have bothered me – like his too-strict rules or the fights we did get into because we were too stubborn. I know he did his best as a parent and I still feel like he did a really good job. But, he did share now and then that he knows he wasn’t perfect. (Who is?) I doubt this is the case, but maybe these recent dreams are just giving me a friendly reminder that life – and people – have their ups and downs, perhaps to help level-out my sadness about him being gone and to be more realistic about the pedestal. Unfortunately, as with suicide itself, I will never have the answer or real meaning. But, I still prefer to choose to center on the positive aspects of the person he was.
First, thank you so much for writing about suicide. Please don’t stop! I appreciate all of your posts and the insights you provide.
My son, Jon David, died by suicide in 2008. Like you, I dreamed about my lost loved one. Jon David (JD) was 24 when he died, but in my dreams he was always about 7 years old. An age where I could hold him in my lap, pick him up, hug him, and mother him. Someone told me once that was because I wasn’t done mothering him. I think that’s probably true.
I would wake up weeping and so sorrowful, desperate to go back to sleep and find the dream again – find HIM again – feeling both fear and eagerness. Finding him and losing him again, even in a dream, was pain beyond description.
One night I had a “JD Dream” and it was an especially good one with laughter and love, holding him, kissing him, seeing his smile. When I woke up I decided to see this interaction – imaginary or not, depending on how you feel about these “apparitions” – as a gift. My arms literally ache for my son, and getting to hold him again even in a dream was a gift I could never, ever find any other way.
Since then the dreams have stopped. I have wondered if he finally “reached” me and felt at peace. I know I felt more at peace, but still wish for just one more dream if you want the truth. I want to hold him just once more. And then after that, just once more. You know what I mean.
You, of course, are not anywhere near missing your father and all that he means to you, and the value of his input in your life as you go forward and succeed, fail, and deal with life. I don’t know if dreams are a way of reaching out to try to “connect the dots” for those losses. I think in my case that may be true. As I am not done mothering my son, maybe you are still a daughter in need of a father’s influence. Obviously these mysteries that are part of our losses are among the ponderables that may have no real solid answer. And maybe the answer is as individual as we are with different meanings for each of us.
It was so comforting to read about your dreams – I think it’s so important to know that we are not alone. Thank you for sharing this post! Thank you again for your blog. Keep writing!!
Hi Becky – thank you so much for sharing your experience with me! I do wonder if our loved ones “channel” the types of dreams they want us to have about them and if they plan them at strategic times. I know that sounds crazy. I, too, find that the frequency and content of the dreams ebb and flow. I really like how yours seemed to bring a positive memory or “closure” almost – though I know this is something we never really get as survivors. My heart filled with joy when you described your dream.