It's 10.17am on Wednesday the 3rd of January 2018.
I've just woken -- my body, heart and soul are filled with tremendous peace.
Last night, my late parents paid a visit to me in a dream.
And it honestly feels like I've spent the last eight hours with them.
My father died when I was 25.
My mother died when I was 27.
I'm now 40.
And in all those years, I've only dreamt about my parents three times.
Last January, I met an aboriginal woman whilst waiting for a tram on Collins Street. The tram was late and we started chatting.
Somehow we got on to the subject of dreams.
I told her I'd only had a few dreams about my late parents and she suggested I ASK Mum and Dad to come and visit me.
Life got busy and I never got around to trying her suggestion.
The dreams I've had about my parents have felt more like a catch-up.
Whereas my 'usual' dreams are like an acid trip. They chop and change and make little sense upon waking.
Last night, my parents and I were at a gala dinner.
But it was the 1950s.
The venue where our dinner was held was nothing short of spectacular.
And the chandeliers -- WOWEE.
They were more impressive than the chandeliers I saw at the Moulin Rouge last year.
There was a band.
The men were all dressed in tuxedos.
And the women were breathtaking in their dresses -- so feminine.
Basically. I talked to Mum and Dad all night about EVERYTHING.
It was the weirdest thing. I was telling them things that were happening in my life in 2018 yet we were in 1951.
I would've happily nailed the group of black jazz musicians and I did ponder it.
But I hadn't seen Mum and Dad for so long and it was important that we spent quality time together.
Thank you for visiting me Mum and Dad whilst I slept. I take that as a very POSITIVE omen for 2018.
My name is Vanessa de Largie.