Dreams about my parents

I often dream about my parents. Usually in these dreams, they are very old and feeble. I've had similar dreams about my Grandfather Scott (Grandpapa) some time ago.

A few mornings ago, I dreamt about my mother. 

She is sitting on the floor of the living room at our old house in front of the picture windows looking like she's either ready for bed or just getting up. She has white paint in her hair. It's daytime. Mary Lou is in the room working on something and painters are painting in the kitchen. It seems to me the owners of the Massey's old house next door had caused some kind of damage and had sent people to make repairs to our house. As I come in the front door, Mom looks happy and says in a child-like manner, "Mary Lou got an invitation to the dance!" I'm thinking this must be an event at Iris Place and I say, "The dance is for people your age, Mom, did you get invited, too?" "I don't know," she says, looking a little confused. "But Mary Lou got an invitation!" 

This morning the dream was about my Dad. The setting also seems to be at their house in Athens, although not as clearly.

Dad is a much younger self, perhaps his age when he finished his Ph.D. (1951) and became an assistant professor at the University of Georgia. Dad is demonstrating for some people, maybe students or members of my current family, how to administer some kind of a test, perhaps a Stanford-Binet, to a child. He seems very competent and confident in himself as he goes about this task. 

The two dreams are very different. Dad has been deceased for almost 10 years while Mom's death still feels recent. I think about both of them often, how well life went for them, how happily they were married, how fortunate I was to have their care and their examples of how to live.