I wrote this on September 9th after a conversation with my daughter.
This morning my daughter woke from a dream, September 9th is the day her dad always thought was her birthday and it's on this day he always called. September 7th is her real birthday, but she would expected his call on the 9th.
She walked around her kitchen with the phone to her ear, talking to her Dad, her mind trying to grasp why this didn't seem possible, her dad was dead, but yet she was talking to him! Maybe it was a mistake, her Dad wasn't dead, she didn't bury him, and she had a perfect sense of calm.
The dream shifted as she walked into the garage of the house she grew up in and sees him. He was happy, not jaded, not playing the victim, not damaged. Now she hears his voice as if it is her own and looks down and her feet, and sees his. He is wearing a familiar pair of sandals which she describes in detail. She smells motor oil, the smell is intense and overwhelming but in the deep calm of her dream, it all feels ok.
In the telling of her story she is overwhelmed by how strong the feelings are, that she was there, with his spirit around her.
She wants to ask him, does he have a message for her?