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When my daddy died. I used to love sleeping a lot. People, mourners around wondered why I slept so much and never ate. Like I would wake up drink some fruit juice if I felt weak and go back to sleep right again.
Well you see in my dreams things were normal. It's almost like life did a rewind to few hours before the incident and everything was normal. In my dreams he was very much alive and I dreamed of normal day to day activities. Washing his clothes, going out, taking stuff out of the car when he got back from work... Things were the same. So whenever I woke up... I would get so upset and confused. Reality seemed wrong so off to bed I would go again.
When this stopped working... I decided to start taking his personal stuff, anything that had his finger prints, even bank cards. Of course I couldn't use them but I put them in my wallet anyways. Touching them felt like touching him and it kind of kept him close to me.
In this photo I'm out and about in his vintage Versace. I think it fits me just right if I do say so myself :)
