 | special dad |
I’ve been having a lot of dreams about my dad, only recently, he has been pretty much mentally retarded. Now, my first instinct to that would be to laugh, but having done the research and being as interested in dreams and their relation to the real world as I am, I am perplexed as to the source of this alteration.
A few weeks ago, I had a dream I was at my dad’s house and I was walking up to my dad, who was seemingly doing metal work right infront of the barn. He had welded 3 sets of large chains between two 3 feet posts, painted white, and it gave me the impression it was a section of a fence for along the road. He held it up in his hands to show me, with a big smile on his face; proud of his work. I was asking him where he learned to weld like this, and who told him to make this fence. I had in my mind that he had been seeing a doctor for his mental slowness, and wondered if the doctor had done something to encourage this. J’aime was around, and I asked her if she knew why he was doing this. He seems like a big oaf, almost like Michael Clarke Duncan in The Green Mile, and he was just standing there looking at me, wondering why i was so frustrated with what he was doing.
In last night’s dream, my sisters and I were at my mother’s house and so was my dad, as if it was really his house. My mom was at Karen Watson(a friend of my mom’s)’s house for some reason (we later went there, and it was a house I have never seen before, but i understood it as her house). My dad was not talking again, and was again showing signs of mental retardation. We were all in the living room, and he pulled out a 6 inch knife, and just starts making slow, short stabbing motions in front of himself. We all scold him, tell him knives are dangerous and take them off him. He is rocking his torso back and forth, and just becomng uncontrollable. We put him in Deirdre’s room and shut the door on him and I try to call my mom and see what we should do. While he is in there, he comes across another knife, and starts up again with the swinging motions. He never really aims for anyone, or really making the full motion enough to stab anyone, just keeping the blade in his right hand, never coming higher than his chest and never lower than his waist. The girls were having a hard time getting the knife off of him, so i got off the phone with my mom and helped them. we got the knife off him, and told him again that he could hurt himself, but he was never saying any word, and not really acknowledging that he understood. I went into the living room and picked up the phone, and I didn’t get a dialtone. It automatically went to this female attorney’s voicemail or answering machine. She said that you for calling
The next thing i remember was going to a mall with serah, and stopping in an antique store, and i guess we had given them some of my dad’s stuff that we were thought we could get rid of. There was a 8 inch collector’s looking baseball bat, with “H Hall” written on the bottom. There was also this weird toy clock tower/school looking thing that i recognized as a childhood toy and that J’aime had been looking for it. There were a few other things there that had his first initial and last name on them, and they were all for sale. I think we were planning on buying them back from the store.
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