I dreamed about the Dead Dad last night. My elder daughter and I were helping out at an outdoor military history exhibition. Then I saw him, and went to get my daughter to go see him.
He was in his military ‘dress’ uniform, which was odd. While he was in the army for a short period after the war, due to conscription, it wasn’t exactly the most vital part of his life, even though he himself did describe it as the moment in which he realised he could be successful at something.
My daughter walked up to him, only to find out it was someone else. Then we saw the real him in the distance, so we ran up to him… just as I woke up.