One of my uncles came to me in my dreams last night. I’ve reflected on it a couple of times today. It’s been a really good day. Uncle Pete has been dead for several years now. It’s been a long time, and I miss him.
He didn’t drop off any hot fishing tips, or anything. We were at his garage in town, working on a cub-cadet tractor. It seemed the fuel tank had been knocked out-of-place, and needed to be reattached. We engaged in some light banter during the work, while he smoked his cigarette, and cleaned his fingernails with his pocket knife. All typical Uncle Pete stuff.
I found it nice to be in his presence again. Nice isn’t the word. My vocabulary is too limited. His tone of voice was…comforting. It gives me hope. I am glad he came by for a visit. Maybe next time we’ll go fishing again.