I had a dream last night that I was at some kind of archeological ruin (most likely influenced by all the episodes of “Bones” I’ve been watching through my new Netflix account). There was a large building and I was with a friend. We entered the building and there were lots of tall shelves throughout the room. It ceased to be an archeological ruin and became the old, dark and musty gift shop of a hotel we were staying in. Minus any people or checkout or signs of store-ness. I was looking for a birthday present for my dad. There were a lot of Japanese-looking items; bonzai trees, statues and figurines. I found a planter that I thought he’d like for his bonzai tree, then I looked up and saw a statue similar to a cross-legged Buddha except that I noticed it looked an awful lot like my pop. My friend asked me what I was looking at. I had a moment of exuberance that I’d found a fantastic gift for my dad, then my heart sank like a rock and I started crying with the memory flooding up that he’s dead and getting a gift for him is pointless.
I woke up with tears still in my eyes and missing my dad something fierce.
His birthday is this week and I wish I could give him a present.
Sometimes I feel that everything I’m accomplishing these days is a present to him. I only wish I could tell him about it all.
Today I dead lifted 110 pounds for the first time. Barbell, from the floor. And it wasn’t terribly difficult. This is after only three weeks of training. Last week I was feeling a bit down that I wasn’t making steps forward with this workout. But I’m well on my way to my goal!
Happy birthday, pop.
I’m working towards something great and you would be proud of me.