He'd been on the decline for years and years. At Christmas he was barely monosyllabic. It was time, but come time to face everything at the funeral, it was pretty hard.

I guess things were really hanging in my head, because one month later, 23rd March, I had a dream about him. Never had a dream with him before. He was back to his old self, and we got to talk about sports and God one last time. I got to be by his side when he passed, and to let out tears, even if in my dreams, that I didn't let myself shed at the funeral.

It's funny, because I was probably in my feelings about how I maybe didn't make the most of all my time with him. He was just the kind of person to not sweat that at all, and still find a way to give me some peace over that, even if he had to step out of heaven for a second to comfort me.

Even if you don't believe in spirituality like that, I like to think that someone could appreciate that when a person is that special, that giving, they can leave pieces of themselves behind, providing comfort once they're gone.

Just IMO though.