Last night I dreamed about my dad. It was not Dad with cancer, but the younger, healthier Dad of my youth. He was laughing. Then I remembered in my sub-conscience that he had died. You would think that would make my dream sad, but I was happy because he was there - in my dream. I had a chance to talk to him. I told him how much I missed him. I hugged him. Then I started to cry - crying like I never let myself do while he was sick. When you cry in your sleep, it tends to wake you up, because once again, you find that you are holding it all in.