By the Dashlight

Took a road trip with my father.  He was doing all of the driving; I was in the passenger seat.  We rode with the windows down.  The sky was an inky blue as we turned onto the interstate ramp, the very last remains of the day.  My father flipped on the headlights and lit a cigarette without needing to say a word.  I was busy flipping through the dial on the radio, looking for the country station that he liked.  I had absolutely no idea where we were headed; I was just glad to see him again.

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6 thoughts on “By the Dashlight

  1. I would probably kill for one of these dreams again. My Dad has been gone for almost 31 years now and I've stopped dreaming about him now. I used to find the dreams of being with him so comforting, it was like a little bit of magic where I could still spend time with him. I keep photographs everywhere now because sometimes it's hard to remember his face….

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  2. There was a point, about a year after he died, that I dreamt about him every day. Some of the dreams were pleasant like this one; some of them were downright bizzare. Sometimes I dreamt that he was disappointed or upset with me. I didn`t like those ones. Now, like you, I rarely dream about him. I miss it too.

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