the night before new year's eve

Last night, I dreamt about my father.

It wasn't a nightmare, and it wasn't a pleasant, happy dream but it was the sort of dream where you wake up asking yourself if it was a dream or a memory because it seemed so vivid and real.

I haven't had a dream with my father in it for months now. In fact, I'm sorry to say that my father hasn't been much in mind lately. The reason why I'm writing about this now is because I've just finished watching Sleepless In Seattle (I love Meg Ryan!) and there's this little boy character who woke up from his sleep suddenly, in tears, and exclaimed to his dad (played by Tom Hanks), that he's afraid of forgetting about his late mother (or something to the same effect).

I, too, have the same fear.

I am afraid of forgetting what my father looked like. What his laugh sounded like. What he smelled like. What he liked to do. What he liked to watch on TV. I am always afraid that I had never loved him enough. And I regret the fact that I never told him how much he meant to me. Whenever I think about him now, there is no searing pain like the one I felt before just some years back; now it's just a dull ache in my chest that will go away quite quickly.

Honestly, I've had a rough last couple of weeks and I await January with anxiety and apprehension. Perhaps, my father's appearance in my dream was a sign of something; telling me not to lose my ground, not to lose my focus in life and cling on steadfastly to whatever values I have. Only God knows.

It's a brand new year starting from tomorrow. A brand new start.

waiting

The past couple of months have been crazy. Work has been crazy.

I'm taking a breather now before my reservist on Monday. Two whole weeks of torture.

I'm still waiting for something amazing to happen.