A Dream within a Dream

Last night I was reunited for a moment with my dad.
We were on a plane, and he was trying to protect me from something, someone, chasing me.

I know it was all in my head, yes? Isn't that how dreams work? But don't we all wonder from time to time if our dreams mean something? Or if something from beyond our own capacity and mind opened a door to another world or realm or heaven or hell? And if maybe, from time to time, the words we wake up with or the visage imprinted on our memories for the rest of the day, weren't as real as our waking state?

So my dad was playing along with the story playing out in my dream. But he was acting just like my dad. He was just like my dad, alive and real and protective and excited and adventurous. Which neither proves nor disproves the potential for reality; I'm sure with my logical mind that it was just a dream. But the other half of me, the half that I don't give much credit to very often, the half I am suppressing because it's all feeling and no reason, feels very lonely and also very glad today to have seen my dad again for just a couple of minutes.

The way his blue eyes glimmered. The silver hairs glinting in his beard and hair. His sun touched, rough skin; his knowing smile. The way he looked at me and let me know we were going to be fine.

Oh God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
Oh God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
-Edgar Allen Poe