Ghosts.

I had my first real “Jason is back” dream last night.

I was in the bathroom, slicking down my messy hair before a short meeting at the church, and passed him on the way out, then did a beautiful double-take. “Wait — you — how –???”

Someone beside us (it wasn’t my wife, but it was female, so it might have been one of my daughters) said, “I’ve just been praying and wishing so hard…”

I pinched myself and pulled my arm hairs, because I was saying that this had to be a dream, but it felt real and I wasn’t waking up. I broke down and cried, told him how I had missed him and thought of him every day, every minute of every day.

I was late for my meeting at the church, so I rushed out the door, my mind buzzing with how and what we’d tell people, how we could legally “resurrect” him —

And then my alarm went off and I said, “Shit.”

My grandfather has been dead for over a decade, and I still have dreams where I discover he’s alive. So I guess I know what I have to look forward to.