1. in a hotel. many people i know are staying there. i think it's in europe. not sure. all dark brown wood and red paint, dim lighting. water gun fight breaks out. everybody is running around the place, up and down the stairs, in the halls, through doorways, etc. getting sprayed. i'm in an elevator. shooting water out as the doors close, people in the hall squirting at me. doors close. elevator starts going down. i hit another button, and, somehow, with the power of my mind, change the direction of the elevator, get it to start going up. while this is happening, i can sort of see through the walls, the walls of the elevator become translucent. i go up. next thing i know, i'm on the roof. laying facedown on a pile of something, looking over the edge of the roof. there is a patio/cafe/square below, tables, chairs, fountain, light, people eating, drinking, and of course, the watergun fight. i feel someone coming up behind me, and then on top of me. i turn my face to see a petite, somewhat tanned, brown-haired woman, laying facedown on my back, she wraps her arms around me, smiles at me, we kiss.
2. i'm in a boat. a small boat. like a little motorboat. i'm with one other person. (possibly *****.) we're in a bay. there are other boats around. a shoreline. the weather is beautiful. sunny. clear. breezy. a large yaught is passing us by. on the deck, i see a ton of people. a hundred? they're dressed up. it's some sort of fancy party. the top of the yaught is flat, with a big pool in the middle. everyone on board is jumping into the pool. i think to myself "if they all jump into the pool, won't that made the boat sink?" next i am standing on a bridge, way above all of these boats. the yaught is passing underneath me. i see the pool in the center of the deck, with all of the people in it. the yaught is under the water, yet still moving, and everyone is acting normal, as if it was still afloat. i jump off the bridge, just as the yaught passes under, aiming to jump directly into the pool. in the air, about halfway down, i hesitate, i decide i don't want to be in that pool. somehow, with a bit of struggle, i am able to "slow" my fall, so the boat passes by me, before i fall into the wanter, just missing the back of the yaught. i am now under water. the water is clear. i look around. there are people EVERYWHERE. people i know. people i don't. it's like the entire cast of characters from my life are all in this water at this moment, many of them dressed up (for a funeral?). everyone is under water, but nobody is in a panic. nobody is drowning. they're just underwater. hundreds of people, evenly space out, moving around calmly as if walking through a park. smiling, nodding, acknowledging each other. (and me.) i push off from the bottom towards the surface.
3. i am standing in the laneway behind the house i grew up in. gravel underneath me, it is unpaved. i am waiting for something. (someone?) i am looking at the barn/garage, the back fence, the back of the house, the yard. a man is walking towards me from down the lane. he gets closer. it is my father. [my father died when i was 14.] he looks older, but healthier. looks like he's in his sixties, grey, but thing, healthy, happy, smiling. he walks towards me. i have been waiting for him. i tell him that i am sorry that i had hit him in another dream [strange, to be in a dream, talking to somebody about something that happened in another dream, one my conscious mind was never even aware of...] he asks me if i am angry with him now, or if i am angry with him when he was young and angry. [strange, again, how time can work so differently in a dream. he's talking about these two selves of his as if they are both coexisting at the same time.] i tell him i'm not angry at him at all anymore. he hugs me. i hug him. we hug each other tight. we are both happy to see each other. i am just about to ask him if he wants to go and get a coffee at the tim horton's we used to go to when i was a kid, when i wake up. [i wake up crying, so much water coming out of my eyes, i don't know if i have ever cried that much. but i'm happy to have seen him. spoken to him. heard his voice. it has been so long since he passed away, and i do not recall him ever being in one of my dreams. in fact, just a year or two ago i had thought about that, how strange it was that i had never dreamt of him.]
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