By Mere Jackson
I dreamt I had a father.
He threw himself a funeral before he died so he could enjoy the party; see everyone one last time.
“What a waste,” he said, “to have everyone show up once it’s too late.”
At the funeral I didn’t know anyone, but they knew me. My father told of our adventures, bragged how wonderful I’d grown to be.
Aunties and cousins I’d never seen before hugged me as I cried. Not because he was dying, but because I’d had a father and couldn’t remember a thing about it.
Not even when they showed me the pictures.
Excellent – fascinatingly breathing new life into the old idea of having your funeral before you’re dead. Worth many readings.
A similar thing happened to me. My brother and I met many of my father’s co-workers and others who said, “Your father always told us how proud he was of his two sons.” However, he never told us that.
Powerful piece. My favorite this week.
Very well done.
It’s deeper than that, I see there was no father. Just a dream. But such a great idea! Nicely done.