Often, Fusun, often. My dad passed away February 18, 1980 (the day before my 25th birthday), at age 58. One day we were celebrating the baptism of my cousins twin girls, the next day he was gone. Massive heart attack. Just like is father and grandfather before him. I still have the same dream where he is telling me that everything is OK.
Something odd when I think of him, my mother is way too old for such a young man. He was 10 months older than her and while she is now 87 and he is still 58. I can't imagine him as an old man.......can't imagine him any different than the day he left us.
Yes, it will be 30 years next month and I still miss him.
This post is very touching.

Ohhhhh, many warm thoughts to both you and Aunt Sal. So sorry for your aches.

One good thing that happened after my Dad dies is that now when I dream of him, he's healthy and walking and talking. He spent his last many years very very sick with disease and strokes and hadn't walked in so long, and no longer remembered who we were. But, in my dreams when I see him, he is just fine and happy. I love dreaming of him now.

Take care today.

Aunt Sal, I cannot imagine how may father would have looked now- he'd be 84. He stays young in my memory while I see my mother grow old and succumb to the ravage of time. And I look at their wedding photo and wonder what it is that makes us who we are. My father remains young in my mind, and sometimes I can taste my longing for him.

wakingupslowly: I'm happy for you to have replaced your father's image with healthy ones in your dreams. The mind works in wonderous ways. I sometimes dream that my father is alive and his death is part of a conspiracy theory, which has to be kept undercover for reasons he cannot reveal even to me. I find that very frustrating.

Absolutely beautiful. Thank you, Fusun.

Fusun, that is a beautiful picture and I think you resemble your mother in appearance. Whose personality would you say you resemble? I am much more like my dad in appearance and personality. I'm the oldest of 3 and I know he loved us equally. I do believe, though, he related to us differently. We had many good discussions, dad and I. I think maybe it was easier for me to talk with him and see his point since I am/was so much like him. He gave sound advice. At 25, I was still a "kid" when he died. I often wonder about relating to him now as an "experienced" adult. I know I took too much for granted back then. Would he approve of me, would he be proud? I like to think so, but I'd still like to ask him.
I'll be thinking of you today. Try to focus on the happy memories and I'll try to do the same.

beautiful and sad. I watch my husband experience much of what you write so eloquently. He lost his parents young. Good morning, Fusuna.

I do indeed dream of persons lost. With my brother I think he will always be the same kid that I grew up with, my pop on the other hand seems to be aging along with me in my dreams. Very good work here my friend.

This is powerful, poignant and touching, F. I don't grieve for my father in this way, but I do for my late husband--and much the way you describe it here. He died 10 years ago and I still often dream about him, and wish I could "breathe him for a split second" and hold him again.

Thank you for this. Rated. D

Thank you :)

My Dad died over 40 years ago and not a day goes by when I don't ask Why! This was a great tribute Fusan!

Fusun, I have had these dreams of both my mother and father. You feel like you are with them, you wake up and then ...

I dreamed about my grandfather a few months ago. He's someone I wish was still around so I could ask all the questions I should have when he was still around. Nice job on this. Rated.

Beautiful, and yes, friends and relatives alike, have visited me in my dreams, often giving me important messages like..... Yo! You need a new roof now!

"in the fit of frenzy
of an ethereal, cruel dream - that
as unexpectedly as it came -
quietly, on padded paws, flees?"

I especially like and understand this!

This catches my breath. I hae not dreamed of the people I've lost, but I think of them. Often. I've known people who have had these dreams, though.

Lovely tribute, and yes, I have.

Yes.

wonderful beautiful painful....xx A

Beautiful. I haven't dreamt about my brother for quite some time which is disappointing. I like seeing him in dreams. He died in 1986 at the age of 31. Thank you for these poetic thoughts that go so deep. and yes, I know how you feel and I wish too. Right now, I wish I could give you a hug.

I had the most extraordinary dream of my dad two days before my mom died in 2004. Dad had died far too young in 1987. We had bought my mom home to die five days ago; the hospital didn't like we would make it home in the ambulance, even though it was a 2 mile trip. But fortunately she lingered until Good Friday, so my 5 brothers and I spent a week in my house, the longest we had all een together since I left for college in 1963.

I dreamed the phone rang and it was my daddy. We had a wonderful conversation. Then he said, "what is taking her so long?" I know what was taking her so long. Rebellious Catholic activist that mom was, she chose to die on Good Friday and be waking on Easter Sunday. Believe me, we all keep an apprehensive eye on the casket Sunday:)

Sorry for all the typos. I so wish OS was like Blogger and most blogging platforms that let you preview and edit comments. Lovely poem and pictures, very evocative.

This brings tears to my eyes and an ache to my heart. In 2000 I lost my sister, then 52, to metastatic breast cancer. Two months and two days later, my father passed away from a ruptured bowel. I think my sister's passing had such an effect on him that it hastened his demise. My mother was never quite the same after that although she really tried to continue to enjoy life's blessings. She passed after a long (and sometimes painful) illness in 2005. Not a day goes by that I don't think of them and wish that I could have just one more day. I think I've read every book on grieving that they have at Barnes and Noble as well as every book and story around on people that purport to be able to talk to the dead. I know that is extremely silly.
But the dreams--the dreams! I don't have them often but when I do they are so real I wake up feeling like I have hugged my beloved and their essence lingers like my favorite perfume on a blouse. I can't always smell it, but every now and then I catch a faint whiff and it makes me happy.
Great poem, very emotional and profound.

I know you read my post, "My Dad - The Ghost." Obviously, I believe that, although we may not be able to speak directly to those we've lost, they are still with us.

I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit this, but at a time in my marriage when my husband and I had to be separated for weeks at a time, I would keep one of his unwashed shirts in my drawer so that I could imbibe his scent when I was most lonely and gather strength from it. I understand the line " breathe him for a split second."
R

I dream about my mother all the time. I'm always grateful when I wake up, even if it was a frightening dream. I know she is still with me. Great post.

This is very deep and meaningfull for those that have lost someone that they truly love, for me it is my mother. I miss her, I know she is no longer here, but I miss her words, her expressions, her sarcasm. The person seems to linger in our minds and hearts, that is the way the lonely feels. It is definitely strange, the best way I find to memorialize a person who you love, is to do good deeds in their honor, lite a candle, have masses said, and visit their place rest. There is often a sense of peace, when loved ones know they are not forgotten.

Beautiful and touching..

Not only is the a beautifully written piece of poetry, but it is also a subject that touches many of us on a personal level. Yes. I dream of my father often and yearn for one more day, one hour, of time with him. I think the difference is that when I have those dreams, I wake up smiling because he and I always have such a nice visit in the dream.

Aunt Sal: Sounds like we have a lot in common. I'm the eldest of 3 and my father loved us all equally but we each related to him differently. I would have liked him to see his *literary* daughter's publications in his lifetime.

Amanda: Your husband is lucky to have you.

Bobbot: I'm now past the age of my first mother-in-law whom we lost to cancer at 52. That's a strange feeling.

Yarn Over: I wish I could grieve my husbands as you do, but unfortunately, I cannot, because how can you grieve for a persona that did not even exist? You are lucky to have your memories to cherish.

trig palin: Thank you for dropping by and sharing.

Harvey Gardner: I think for me my father is turning more into a feeling and no longer an image. I feel him when I do something I know he'd approve and make him proud, or write a piece he'd say, "Well done, Tatarcik."

scanner: Thanks, my friend, we bond more through basic feelings that we question, but to which cannot find a reply.

Scarlett Sumac: I know what you mean, I try to keep my eyes closed just a little longer hoping the feeling will linger.

smalltownwriter: I wish I had known my granparents better too. They were my last connection to the Ottoman Era.

MiddleAgedWomanBlogging: It is said that our loved ones look out for us even from the other side.

General JK Brady: I'm glad when I find you here too. You're welcome anytime.

Chuck A. Stetson: What can I say? You are a poet in your own right.

Pilgrim: I don't know the difference between thinking and dreaming, except one is more within our summon.

spotted_mind: Thank you and I hope your dreams have given you comfort.

Kathy Riordan & Akopsa: Thank you for your visit and help me remember my father with my OS friends.

Leonde Delmare: I will accept a cyber hug and reciprocate. I really need one now.

Redstocking Grandma: You must have taken after your mom. What a stron-willed character she must have been. Lovely memory. Thank you.

Julsmac: All we have are the good memories, a scent, a piece of scribble and dreams. But they live through us in more than just these.

Donna: Yes, Donna. And I know exactly what you mean about the unwashed shirt. I kept V-necked wool sweater I kept from my father, and when I unpack it occasionally, I swear that I can still breathe him in it.

Sweetfeet: We don't lose the ones we love, we meet them on different planes. Thanks for coming by.

MOMSACOMIC: I agree. When I do something good, no matter how small it is, I feel my Father lives through me.

fireeyes24: Thank you for sharing.

Torman: I know what you mean. They give to us even in their physical absence, and still enrich our lives with the inspiration they left as their greatest legacy.

This is beautiful and touching.

And, like so many people here, I too have dreams about people who I have lost. I even have regular waking conversations with my "adopted grandparents" who I was much closer to than I ever was with my own grand parents.

For me, staying in touch with the positive aspects of my past helps keep the negative aspects of my present in perspective

Yes...I have done all of these things...you have captured those feelings beautifully, fusun...xox

beautifully conceived and written.
Fusun- you have achieved your dream to be a writer, as you I can see you have jumped head first into the river of words that rushes down to the vast sea where life is a transcendant all - embracing force joining the present, the past and the dreamworld in the uniqueness of YOU. thanks for welcoming me to this part of reality - salon rocks !

Placebostudman: "...staying in touch with the positive aspects of my past helps keep the negative aspects of my present in perspective" Very wise my friend. Your attitude is indeed an inspiration by itself.

Robin: I'm not surprised- someone as sensitive as you . . .

potatoe girl: Thank you for your very kind words. I've met kindred spirits and fantastic writers who bring in different perspectives to human dilemmas. They make me think, learn, wonder, laugh and cry.

That is so beautiful and brought tears to my eyes as I am reminded of my Mother and of late Freddie Prinze who I miss both dearly. There is never a day that I do not think of them. Thank you for those beautiful words.