I lost my Dad last year. It's still early days I suppose. He was very ill when he passed away (cancer) and it was a terrible time.
I've had three dreams about him since then. In each one, he's looked less and less ill.
This morning (after I put the alarm on to snooze!) I had a lovely dream. We had celebrated Christmas, knowing that Dad was no longer with us, then packed everything away. Then he walked in through my front door bringing a huge Christmas tree with him. He looked so healthy and well. The dream was a little like a sci-fi story. We knew he was gone and that it was like a loop in time where he thought he'd been away somewhere helping someone out, but was popping back for a while.
He gave me the biggest hug as I sat on his knee (which I've obviously not done for about 25 years as I'm in my 40s!) and I had to try not to cry in the dream as I knew he shouldn't be there and I couldn't let him know.
Then we asked him how long he was staying, adding 'a while?' when we realised it sounded like we might be trying to get rid of him. :)
He answered 'About a week.' Then went upstairs. I remember looking at my Mum in the dream and asking "What to we do? He clearly doesn't know!'
Then the alarm went off, I woke up, smiled, then cried.
Weirdly, instead of remembering him on his death bed, I now have an image in my head of how he was, not just before he got poorly, but when he was about my age and I was a teenager. It's like a little gift from my subconscious, I'm not at all woo.