Said your name in an empty room

A few nights ago I had a nightmare. Ive never had the kind that blend with waking life. well once but that had to do with an unwise visit to a gay psychic named garylee lee. I remember I went to his shop in particular because of the rainbow wind sock outside his door. Anyway beyond a visit from a dream traveling psychic arkansasan, I've never woken from a dream wondering, 'What the fuck is going on in my room?' Until last night. Granted I woke up and proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach into a trash can so I clearly had something going on that my mind was trying to wake me up for, but I remain creeped out nonetheless.
I woke up hearing moaning, wailing really, and it's the sound of a man. I feel myself wake up and I see a tiny red glow like laser pointer but surrounded with a glow like brake lights and I can still hear the man for a couple of beats as i'm waking up. Immediately I think something terrible has happened to my dad for some reason. I debate for a half second on calling him and then I think, 'Was that doug?' Our friend Doug died a year ago today in a helicopter accident. In life, he was very simply, but most accurately, a delight. I don't know that he enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed him but I certainly enjoyed the man -- his easy laugh and his bear hugs.
The day it happened, I got the call from his wife and I remember her saying it. There was no discussion other than me saying clear as day, ' No he didn't Jes.' Which by the way is the absolute worst response to someone who is still in shock herself. Then I started hyperventilating and I told her to talk to Jay. I didn't have it in me to tell him his best friend had died. I felt like he wouldn't believe me if I told him. I don't think I quite believed it at that time either.
So here it is. A year later. His son's second birthday just last weekend. His wife's birthday yesterday. His 5th wedding anniversary just around the corner. I see them going through these milestones without him but there is this expectancy under the surface -- like maybe just maybe he will show up anyway. I feel it myself on some level. I can only imagine it more so for them.
So, tonight, Doug, just like a year ago, I'll say a rosary for you. And maybe cry a bit for every time I held your son or your wife this year when you couldn't. And I'll drink a few. I'm Catholic; it's what we do. I hope I get the same feeling I got that night -- of you in the corner of the room with a feeling of gratitude and indulgence. "Sarah, thanks hon but I'm not really religious you know?"
I know, hon. God rest your sweet sweet soul. Your families -- all of them you made, found, found you or were born from -- miss you.