Nightmares

I woke suddenly this morning. Drenched in sweat.

We were flying, somewhere. Mom, Dad and I. I'm pretty sure we were flying over the ocean. It was a beautiful sunny day, not a care in the world. Suddenly I remember the plane hitting the water. I swim free of the wreckage and see as Mom's head pokes out of the water. I do a backstroke, watching as the plane rolls to it's side, one wing jutting out of the water. Where is he? My backstroke stops when I feel a hard object between my shoulders and somehow I climb onto the cement. Home. I recognized my new surroundings as home. The bushes in front of the house, the buzzards on the railing. But oddly, instead of my childhood yard and shade tree, there's an ocean and an airplane rolling onto it's top, sinking. I don't see him. Suddenly an arm, and then his head. Dad! I jump into the water and begin swimming to him, I can't lose him. I wrap my arms around his chest and hold his upper body out of the water as I swim backwards. I accidentally spit some salt water into his face, he smiles. We reach the sidewalk and I help push him to the cement. We both climb out of the water and go inside and sit down in the kitchen as if nothing was wrong. Dad opens his favorite Jerry Baker book and the ordeal is over.

Why is this so real? What triggered this? I really, really hope this doesn't become a trend.