I had another bizarre dream last night. This dream was more than likely triggered subconsciously by an email from my mother in which she discussed some entries my father had written in his war diary. This is how the dream went, or at least the parts I can still remember while in this (more limited) awakened state:
"My father is about to die and he is lying in bed in my old bedroom where I grew up. He does not look as bad as when I really saw him during those final days on his death bed last year. His face is more similar to when I last visited two years ago. In tears and sobbing, my poor father confesses to me that all those stories he told me about his war experiences are fabricated, that he had been lying to me. He had never been in the Pacific during WWII on the USS Meade, all of it having been an elaborate fabrication. Why? Because he had wanted so dearly to fullfill his image to me as a father figure hero personality. In the dream, I was not only shocked but very very upset. However, because he is dying and it is probably the last time I will see him, I cover up my distress, comforting him that it does not really matter. I am pleased he has confessed this to me and he should feel better about releasing all these pent-up guilt feelings. At least we will be able to depart by having been cleansed from the past."
What does this all mean? Not that I have never trusted my father or suspected him of lying. I think this dream represents a subconscious manifestation of the gut-feeling I still have: that while he is logically no longer present in any physical sense, I still have not completely accepted it on an emotional level. Almost, but not yet completely. That is the lie within me which is slowly fading away, and the dream is a tool to help me deal with it better.