Word from the Wise

I had another dream about my father. It was a vivid one, but free of the sadness (and sobbing) I normally experience. He is at his best, at the lab, surrounded by friends and work. He is in jeans and one of his blue surgical scrubs tops. He is wearing his glasses and his hair is graying but not totally white. That puts him in his fifties (probably) though I realize that while my father's appearance changed over the years (dramatic weight loss, etc) he didn't seem old to me until those last few months before we lost him. Up until the summer before he passed away, he was ageless and seemingly invincible.

I am seeking comfort from him in my dream. My heart broken yet again, I turn to him for advice. He never offered romantic counsel in life...my love life was not something I discussed with my dad. I know he wanted me to be happy, but maybe not married off. I was his little girl, always.

There is a concert being held in the back room of the dental lab. I'm there enjoying the music, singing along and taking photos. I see an ex-boyfriend walk in with a woman. I try to ignore them and focus on the music. She begins to make a fuss about me being there. First of all, what are any of us doing at a concert in a dental lab? Secondly, it's my dad's dental lab so if anybody has a right to be there, it's this girl. I go into the front room to find my dad at his work station. I'm upset, so he hugs me while I explain. Then he puts his hands on my shoulders, looks me in the eye and says one word. "Irrelevant." At least that's what I think he says. He didn't speak much English and I doubt that word featured prominently in his vocabulary, but that's what it sounds like. It makes sense, considering what my mind has been focused on lately (the single lady's lament). But he's right. That stuff is irrelevant, because I've got plans. Big ones. Relevant ones.