I had a bad night of sleep last night. I dreamt about my dad three times. The dreams were a backwards progression of time and they actually got better as they went.

The first one was when he was sick in the hospital. It was a nightmare.

The second was at some family holiday or event and he was joking around.

The third one was when I was a kid and we had just come home from an hour long trip to Cleveland. I was tired and barely awake, but pretending to be fully alseep. He picked me up, slung me over his shoulder and tucked me into my bed.

I miss him.