Happier than a bean in long thyme

Anniversaries are peculiar things. It’s been over a year now since the death of my father Brian. I was pretty low for the whole of August.

One morning last month, Dad woke me up with a cup of tea. He turned up in a dream, walking into the room where I was trying to sleep, showing me concern. I haven’t dreamt about him since he died. In the dream, it was a shock to see his living face.

Actually, it was a good dream, I woke up happy. It was great to see him.

In fact, it was so nice to see him alive once more, and be reminded of his kind if sometimes inscrutable soul, that my gloom dispelled, and things have been easier since.

sprouting bean

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