100 Percent Protected

I dreamed about my dad the other night. He was there, just for a moment, just long enough for me to recognize him before he disappeared to wherever angels go. In my dream he was an angel, and all I saw was his face…but not his face. It was a cherub face, from old-fashioned drawings, all cheeks–it reminded me of how he looked while he was on prednisone those last couple years of his life. His hair was white and wavy. My dad always had a great head of hair, even though he kept it military short. He was wearing his glasses and his funny grin.

In my dream, I had been running, from or to something–I don’t know. I had the impression of having jumped off a train. I was sliding down a wet, grassy hill that must have recently had snow because there were patches of ice scattered around. I was scared, not of anything around me or coming after me, but of breaking my ankle again. Still, I kept running because I knew I had to.

I’m definitely no artist, but this is my best approximation of the badge I was awarded in my dream.

At the bottom of the hill, I looked up, and a badge appeared in the sky. I knew it was mine, that it had been awarded to me. It was green and yellow. Round. Flashing. It had a large check-mark in the middle of it, and it said “100% Protected.” Then the cherub face with my dad’s features popped out of the air above the badge and to the left. He gestured to the badge with his head and his eyes to make sure I got the message: I was 100 percent protected. Then he was gone. I called after him, but only the badge remained, hanging in the sky like a fading firework. I woke up, wanting so badly to bring my dad back so I could talk to him, if only in a dream.

Instead, I lay in bed, my broken leg elevated on pillows, and began to dissect my dream. That’s what I do with dreams. I can’t help it. My mind tries to figure out where they came from. You might think dissection would take the magic away, but it doesn’t. It only makes me wonder more at what’s left when I’m done, at the deeper meaning I cannot explain away.

* I had a feeling that I had jumped off a train, like the heroine in two books I recently read, Divergent and Insurgent.

* The badge I saw reminded me of the WordPress badges and awards. No surprise there since I have spent 0h-s0-many hours on WordPress in the last six weeks.

* The projection of the badge in the sky came from another book. It was how the results of the competition were relayed to  contestants in Hunger Games.

* I think the green and yellow colors came from the Green Bay Packers and Dancing with the Stars. Football player Donald Driver and his partner were wearing green and yellow cowboy costumes on Monday night, Packers’ colors, which I took note of after my son pointed it out.

* I have been worried about walking again, afraid that my ankle is somehow not healed and will snap again like a pretzel stick the minute I put weight on it.

* And I think the cherub face came from a book of old-fashioned Christmas cards that I have, though I haven’t really thought of Christmas recently.

But the message–I don’t know where that came from. I hope it came from my dad. I woke up missing him, but I felt oddly comforted. Secure, like a little girl who knows beyond doubt that her daddy is going to keep her safe. How is it that in the middle of my life, with two children of my own to keep safe, thinking of my dad can still make me feel like that?

It’s a good feeling. I think I will keep it with me and wear it like a shield when I’m able to start walking again, to remind myself that I am “100% Protected.” I know it, because my dad says so.

How about you? Have you had any dreams that have left an impression upon you?

About Jeannette Monahan

A writer sidetracked by life, with a husband and two boys who shine brighter than Arizona sunshine. Visit me at my blogs: jeannettemonahan.wordpress.com or jmmonahan.wordpress.com. You are always welcome.
This entry was posted in Family, Journal Sorts of Things, Musings, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to 100 Percent Protected

  1. pharphelonus says:

    What a lovely feeling, and yes, you are protected.

  2. emjayandthem says:

    I love this; I do believe our loved ones come to us in our dreams … I’ve had some incredible dreams but since getting “The Dream Book” by Betty Bethards I’ve started to understand the symbolism. I have no doubt in my mind that your Dad was with you – didn’t know him, have never met you, but I feel it.


    • Thanks, MJ. I think you’re right–the more I think of it, the more I feel he was/is there, watching out for me. That book sounds pretty interesting. I might have to check it out.

  3. Drangedinaz says:

    That sounds like a wonderfully comforting dream. Are you sure we aren’t sisters because I analyze my dreams the same way you do! :). One thing we probably don’t have in common are our dreams. I don’t think I have ever had a comforting dream, at least not one I remembered upon waking. Here’s one of my dreams ( and I apologize ahead of time if this is too negative, but it is what it is).

    I had a recurring dream from childhood that, thankfully, stopped when I was in my mid-thirties. I am not entirely sure why it stopped reoccurring but I have some theories that I won’t go into here. The dream was short but still devastating to me. In it I was always a child, about 8 years old and the were adults walking around in their daily routines. The moon is falling out of the sky and on a collision course with earth. The adults are blissfully ignorant of their impending doom. I would frantically go from person to person tugging at them, screaming at them, desperately trying to get their attention because I knew what was going on and I knew how to stop it. They refused to look up into the sky and see the problem. They could not see, feel or hear me. I was invisible to them although I knew that I was real, as real as they were. The dream always ended with me in an utter panic, crying, screaming and frustrated beyond bearing. I almost always startled myself awake with the sound of my own voice, my face wet with tears.

    Like I said, I am very thankful that I no longer have that dream. The moral of this nightmare is to always treat children as people who have a point of view by listening to them AND if you are surrounded by people who refuse to acknowledge a problem, well then get the hell away from them. 😉

    • That’s a horrible dream! I’m glad you don’t have it anymore. When I was about the same age, I used to dream about digging graves on a frozen pond deep in the forest in the middle of the night. Scary. I think that’s when I started trying to figure them out!

  4. I do believe there are angels and we’ve known them throughout our lives. I also believe dreams teach us things we may have know other of learning.

    • I think so, too. Miss D–it’s like having a confirmation of something I wish to be true. I like to keep an open mind about things beyond my ken–I always remember Hamlet: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

  5. domesticbubblewriter says:

    What a great dream! And an evocative description of it too. I love your analysis – it’s amazing where these images come from and how our subconscious strings them together. How wonderful and comforting to think your dad is watching out for you.

    • It is amazing, isn’t it? Our subconscious has so much more going on than our conscious. 🙂 It is very comforting to think of my dad making sure I’m ok–I have been less worried since my dream, and that feels good too.

  6. Hi Jeannette,
    What an amazing dream! It reminds me of the dream that I had shortly after I returned home from spending several months living with my mother at her home in Detroit, nursing her through her last illness. I dreamed that I was in my new home–I had recently moved–and my mom was there helping me rearrange the furniture to better suit my new life. It was happy feeling, and it makes my eyes tear up to think of it. She was healthy and loving, as always. She had to go, but before she did, she gave me a brown paper bag filled with homemade cookies–the gifts of a lifetime. And I woke up feeling her loving presence.

    Thank you for a wonderful post. I am so glad I discovered you!

    • Oh my gosh, what a nice dream to have! It makes me tear up just to read about it, especially with the cookies. Thanks so much for reading, and I am heading over to your place for an overdue visit. 🙂

  7. Talk to me...I'm your Mother says:

    I think we dream of our loved ones when we need them. When I lose someone I love, I know that eventually they will come to me in my sleep. It is always comforting. I always wake up feeling as if I had more time with them, too. Although, like your dream, there is always something a little unreal before it is over.

    • I haven’t lost too many people, thank goodness. I wish my dad would come visit more often, though. I’ve only had maybe three or four dreams of him that I remember. But they do always make me feel like I’ve spent time with him.

  8. mselene says:

    Wow, that is a great dream. I’m so glad it comforted you. 🙂 I’ve had lots of dreams lately that leave me in kind of a haze, but I can never remember them!

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