Choosing Figs | Neurotic as Hell | A Travel, Lifestyle, and Life List Blog

A story about love.

I don’t normally post about my dreams. But, if you can tell, I’ve been in a bit of a weird funk lately. One that had me crying a lot more at random times, in random bars, at random episodes of Friends. One that had me thinking too much. One that shook me to my core.

And it started with a dream that I had, sometime, while I was in Vang Vieng. So, I think, to understand how I’ve been feeling lately, you have to understand this dream.

I was in a house I didn’t recognize for some sort of get together. My mom was there and so was her boyfriend. And some strangers about my age. Who I was thinking were his children. Not that I even know if he has children.

And my dad was there.


And this didn’t seem weird.

At some point I was talking to my mom in this dream and she, as usual, was really getting on my nerves. And I thought, “how am I going to manage to move back in with her when I come home.”

With her.

It was at this moment in the dream where I kind of stepped back from it and started racking my brain to think of why my parents weren’t living together. I knew they weren’t divorced so I couldn’t really figure it all out.

And then it hit me that my dad had died.

And I turned to him, crying, and ran up to him and hugged him and told him I loved him. And he told me that he loves me.

And then I woke up.

My family has never been the affectionate type. We’re close, but not ones to hug or tell each other we love them or call just to say hi. It just doesn’t happen.

My dad never said it to me. Not in my entire life that I can recall.

On the night before his surgery, when they cut out his tongue and his voicebox, I went home to visit him. I knew that it was his last chance to ever say it. And even then, there was nothing.

I didn’t say it either. It just wasn’t something we did. But I was kind of mad and sad at that moment, knowing that I would never in my life hear my dad tell me he loved me.

And so to hear him say it, for the first time ever, if only in a dream, kind of threw me. And made me cry. And sent me into a weird funk of not knowing what to believe.


Hi, I'm Val. I spent most of my 20s in a standstill, unable to pick which path in life I wanted to take. I wanted the nomadic life of a traveler but also wanted the husband, the condo, and the kitten. Unable to decide which life I wanted more, I did nothing. When I turned 30 I’d had enough of putting my life on hold and decided to start “choosing my figs.” So, I quit my job, bought a one-way ticket to Europe, and traveled for three years. Now I'm back in Chicago, decorating my apartment in all the teal, petting my cats, and planning my next adventure.

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4 Comments
  • Colin
    January 25, 2012at12:08 pm

    Sometimes we listen best with our ears, other times it’s our eyes, but I personally like it the most when people listen with their hearts.

    Cheer up, flap those fairy wings, and “just keep swimming….”

  • Shannon
    January 25, 2012at12:48 pm

    This is a beautiful post! Thank you for sharing! I’m glad you were able to have that moment with your father, even if it was after his death and in a dream. He obviously wanted you to know that he loved you, and that no matter what your situation in life, he will be there with you!

  • Jaime
    January 26, 2012at4:34 am

    Agree Beautiful post… I don’t even know what to say. I’ll just say that you know I am here for ya if you ever need anything. I love ya Val & am so thankful you are in my life.

  • Chelsa
    January 26, 2012at11:33 am

    Beautiful, you made me cry…

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