Last night I had a dream in which I was at my parents’ church in San Diego as it appeared in the early 1990s. My father and one of the pastors of the church were scolding me for something as if I was a child — I only saw myself in the POV way one sees oneself in a dream, but I was wearing the pants and shoes of contemporary Andrew. In fact, the pastor commented on them, cunningly: “Don’t you like nice shoes, or something?”
Anyway, I’m having some sort of emotional breakdown in the dream, and suddenly there is a flash-forward to some sort of photo collage with captions — it looked like it was made on PowerPoint, but was clearly composed of cut-up scraps of paper & photographs on a cardboard background. It scrolled down my mind-frame like the end credits of a film — I think there might have been a voiceover of my father to accompany it. I don’t remember the content of this collage-thing, but apparently (in the dream, still) my father had made it for me as some sort of apology, and I found it to be incredibly inspirational and significant.
It was at this point, I think, that I woke up.