I dined on slivers of Parmigiano Reggiano and a Banana Ice vape; the combination could be the meal of the damned. Later, I dreamt that Yungblud was dancing in front of me and singing ‘I luv ya, will ya marry me?’ Afterwards he sat cross-legged on my sofa wearing grubby boxers and white socks and nibbled on a pork pie. I told Charlie about my dream. “Not that little twerp from Doncaster,” he said in his French accent.
Who were you in my dream last night? We wandered barefoot through empty streets and drank in dirty bars. It was a good feeling, and we said we’d do it again. Yet, when I awakened, I wasn’t sure who you were. I thought I knew you but didn’t know where from. Were you a missed opportunity, who’d come to remind me that you might once have existed? So many questions. Be calm, be tender, and maybe I’ll love, I decided.
That was a bloody good dream I had that night.
I walked into a room and found Sam Roberts smiling like he always did. I expected him to disappear, but he didn’t, and he gave me a big hug.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m always here, but you never see me,” he chuckled.
“I’ve not seen you for nearly 40 years.”
“Well, this week you’ve been thinking about me, and that’s a good reason to see you.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“But I also have something to tell you,” he added. “I want you to know that we never go away, and that means that you should never be sad.”
“Grandad, I’m not sad. In fact, I’m incredibly happy to see you.”
He was about to say something else but thought better of it. I could see that his figure was quickly fading, and there was only enough time for him to smile and wave, and in a flash, he had vanished.
Today, I thought about that dream after I received the telephone call to say that my dad had passed away.
Perfectly Hard and Glamorous 