The Dreams that changed Ellie

What happened? How did I get here? I can’t remember. I never imagined a day without my dad. When he passed away, I tried to live a normal life, but what I mostly did was stay at home and mourn all day and all night. I had to skip my college graduation ceremony and spend my days in the hospital looking after his unconscious body. He was in a coma after the doctors operated on him. He had a hemorrhagic stroke and it was something the doctors say "impossible to cure". I wasn't always friends with my old man. As his only child, I was a rebel, but we do find ourselves in each other's arms after every argument. We talk and reconcile. Sometimes, I feel like I'm the only person who has seen my dad at his weakest. He was always the tough one, not just to us but also to his stepbrothers and stepsisters. He has this huge barrier in front of him and a character he has to maintain. I guess I was the only one who could see through that. My mom, she has to put up with my dad's antics sometimes, but not me. I was always frank with him. As an orphan, he worked his way 24/7 to the point where he was granted scholarships and on his way to becoming a lawyer. He had lost all hope for his ambitions after he had me. I felt like I needed to do something about it, so I told myself that I would make him proud but, ironically, he was taken away on my graduation day. Don't get me wrong, my dad never made me feel that he regretted what happened to him. He was very supportive of me. It was hard to process how my life should continue without him. I guess all my plans were laid for him and now all of them are left hanging. I find myself pretending it didn't happen, like he’s on a trip far away and he will be back. There were long months of denial and despair. I lived in the shadows, huddled up in a corner. So whenever he visits me in my dreams, I want it to stay, forever. “Ming, daddy was in my dream last night again. This time, it's different.” I told my mom. She still looks younger than her age at 62 and is the strongest woman I know. I have never seen her cry in front of people except, of course, when we buried daddy. Two years have passed since then. She was slowly munching her food in front of me while we were having dinner. Her eyebrows were raised as if waiting for what I would say next. “He was gesturing for me to go to the attic.” My mom was listening, trying to hide her tears. I told her how dad was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. That he was leading me upstairs. He was showing me this newly renovated room. I realized it was our own attic. It's a small space with an office table in the middle. The walls were covered with white drapes. On the left side of the table were storage cabinets with five drawers. I remembered they were newly painted. The drawers were left open, some were removed and placed on the floor. On the right side of the office table were cardboard boxes. They were disorganized and empty. I was looking around, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. "This is your office?" I asked my dad. He was trying to show me these and I can’t figure out why. I was just happy, because yes, I was dreaming, but I was well aware of what was happening, like it was real. He tried to open his mouth and then I woke up. It felt real. My mom blinked and smiled. “Your dad misses you.” Maybe, I thought. A long silence followed. I tried to change the mood by telling her, “He’s still wearing his favorite white shirt and boxer shorts”, and we both laughed. He doesn't care if his clothes are torn or old, as long as they're comfortable. "Look, honey. I know you're scared and confused, but I think it's time for you to start a new life. I don't know the right words to tell you but I just want you to know that I'm always here for you. Okay?" I paused, looked at her concerned eyes and smiled, "I know, mom". I didn't know what happened, really. All of a sudden, a feeling of intense sadness came to me. It constantly comes and goes and I can't get rid of it. At times, it happens when I'm driving, out for coffee, walking down the street, just randomly. They say it's called 'breaking down'. During these moments, I cry to the point of screaming and there are no more tears to shed. And when I'm all done, I always ask why. "You need proper help, honey. Please.", my mom tells me all the time. I get really scared whenever I meet new people and it's even harder for me to talk about what I feel to a stranger. But when I finally landed a job in real estate, I was slowly gaining confidence although I still break down sometimes. That's why when I had this dream with my dad, it gave me a sense of hope. After helping with the dishes, I went up to the attic. I imagined the scene in my dream. That’s the time I began to write about it. I took a pen and notebook and wrote everything I remembered. ATTIC RENOVATED OFFICE DISORGANIZED DRAWERS DADDY SMILING From that day forward, I tried writing about my dreams and hoping my dad was in it. A few weeks later, he came back. This time he was sitting on my bed while I was lying down. It was dark and misty. I was facing the other way and I could only feel his hand patting my back like he was going to put me to sleep. Then I heard him sing a lullaby. My eyes were about to close when I saw a red stain on the floor. Then I woke up, but I could still hear my father’s song slowly fading away. When I looked back, he was gone. I rushed to write everything in my notebook, crying that I would soon forget the melodies he was humming. Once you wake up from a dream, most of it will disappear from your memory in just seconds. These were the things I struggled to remember: DADDY’S LULLABY (FORGOT THE SONG) LYING IN BED RED STAIN ON FLOOR (OR WAS IT?)