I don’t have the chronology down but it’s something like this:
I’m outside at a hotel or inn of some sort, on a street in front of it. Both my sisters are there too. One of them has either her shirt or her bra and all her many necklaces on backwards, making the shirt look lumpy. She takes the shirt off and re-dons it the other way. I’m surprised to see that she wears a C-cup bra because she doesn’t look that big. Both sisters decide to take a bike ride before dinner and they head off.
I walk over to the inn and go inside. I am returning a bunch of dvds to a shelf upstairs but it occurs to me that I’m not supposed to refile them but let the staff do it so I leave most of them there.
I hear voices from a nearby room and one sounds, clear as a bell, like my dad’s. I think: He doesn’t have any brothers, or any other male relatives who could be here, so it must be him, even though he’s dead. I can hear his voice completely plainly, sounding just like him. I go into the room where I hear the voices and sure enough, he’s there, sitting in a rocker or some chair along with some other men in other chairs, chatting. He’s his usual animated self, not sick at all, exuberant with vitality and humour. I’m glad and only slightly surprised to see and hear him.
(I don’t think we talked or interacted here, but I think my sisters and I were there at the inn with him and were all going to have dinner together soon).
My friend Renee comes in wearing a white tunic sort of sweater, which she comments on, something about how it’s hard to find tops that fit right.
I’ve lost bits of the dream but I think I remember all the Dad portion of it. As in the last dream I recorded here, there’s a dinner that’s about to happen and Dad is going to partake. And in this dream, tops or shirts, and how they fit, seem to be a motif … What does that signify, if anything?