Anyone familiar with this blog knows by now. My father killed himself in 2009, back in Belgium.

In my dream my dad is staying in my apartment in Slovakia. His ribs are hurt or something and he is constantly in a chair.

I find this odd. It’s hard to picture my dad in an apartment, because it seems like a claustrophobic space. My dad always preferred a house with a garden. Extra odd is that he needs care and that by being in Slovakia it must mean that he accepts that care. My dad probably killed himself because he didn’t want to become dependent on anyone.

I want to entertain him, so I want to turn the television towards him. It’s one of those huge old televisions, not a flat screen. When I try to turn it, it drops off the table it’s standing on. My dad lunges foward and helps me catch it. This happens twice.

I feel guilty, because he should rest. I tell him I can handle it.

Then the tv shrinks to the size of an i-pad, but I somehow can’t attach it to the wall.

I wake up with a racing heart. Always when I fall asleep during the day something like this happens. I always wake up with a racing heart. Faster than I think my heart can go.

What is this dream about?

It’s pretty straightforward.

I tried to save my dad when I was a child. I suppose I did a lot of things in the hope that I would become rich and have something to offer, open up his life. I feel like I failed almost completely.

The television is life. Carrying life. Fixing life.

I realize I will have to fix it on my own.

The fact that the television suddenly morphs, it becomes more modern, but also vastly smaller, could mean that my ambitions, my life has shrunk incredibly much, but also that perhaps I have a more modern idea of what life is about. And since I can’t attach it to the wall, I haven’t figured out yet to really work with that or to fully accept that. But I want to, because I try, and I tell dad I can handle it.