What dreams may come?

The night following Robin Williams’ death, my Dad popped in. He’s dead too, so when I say, ‘popped in’, I mean in the form of a dream. I knew he would. He was my Robin Williams. Whilst his humor touched us more than he knew, reaching across the boundaries of age and the father/daughter dynamic, he had a dark side. Who doesn’t? But sometimes the light doesn’t come back on. It flickers for a while and then it fades, completely. Back to black.

Recently a psychic confirmed that he intentionally caused his own death. We’d always suspected. My sister found him, photos scattered around his room, phone off the hook, furniture knocked over, small change scattered across the kitchen table. We eventually found over 40 empty bottles of whiskey hidden throughout the house, and downstairs a large box of empty Listerine bottles. Correct, he was an alcoholic, but one with fresh breath!

Why can’t we see our own light sometimes? It doesn’t go away, it dims. But it only dims to us, the dimees. Others see it, and they are touched, more than you know. Your aura shines forever. Don’t underestimate your light, please don’t. It’s not just your life. Nanoo Nanoo.