Time Continuum

I was gazing out of my parent's upstairs window and saw a black ford truck pulling in the driveway. We were having a big family gathering, and one of my uncles asked who was driving up. I said, "It's my dad." He said, "No its not, your dad is in his room." I went and looked and sure enough my dad was lying in bed. I ran back to the window to look again and said, "No its definitely my dad." I ran outside to the driveway, and my dad got out of the truck. He was younger with a handlebar moustache and big 80's style tinted glasses. I said, "Dad, you must be time traveling! Maybe its from the solar flares!" My dad went into the house and sat on a trunk and then he disappeared, like static. I started looking around sadly, and then he reappeared. I told him I wanted him to stay. I was so excited because it was a younger version of my dad and maybe if he stayed I would have more time left with him. Time to prevent illness. Time I would cherish more because I now know the fragility of life. The scene switches and now I am in the garage standing in a truck bed helping my young cousin arrange hangers by color and material. He was going to do some sort of MacGyver maneuver later that evening when the lightning came. Then my uncle Al walked through the garage. He was also younger tan, and wearing a navy blue baseball cap with a gold sailor aemblem embroidered on the front. I hopped off the truck and went to talk to him. As I began to speak he said, "I can't talk right now, I have to see my mom." My heart grew sad because I knew his mom, my grandmother, had passed away. I knew he wasn't in his right mind, that brain damage had crossed the time threshold. I just smiled and said ok, and let him go. My cousin said, "Dad!!" and ran to his father, my uncle. When my uncle didn't recognize him, we looked at eachother with a pain that both of us understood, in our own way. I knew my cousin wasn't wishing his 80s dad could stay, knowing more of his life was stolen from him. Watching one father suffer is more than enough, 2 fathers suffering is unbearable. He let go of my uncle's hand and he disappeared through the doorway. We resumed our work in the truck bed and silently, without making anymore eye contact.