I had another dream last night that featured my father. We were at the white house -- not "the" White House, the house where we lived for about 10 years of my childhood and teenage years. It was a large whit 1960s Colonial. The family who owns it now has extensively renovated it, hosts an open house around the holidays and my family is invited. I have never attended, and I'm not sure if we were visiting them, but besides my father, many family members were present and it wasn't our house. The fireplace was a focal point, because the suggestion was that the letter "G" painted on it could not be removed. My father was proud of his name and initials, and always branded thing with that "G." (I don't know if it's true that it could not be removed, I suspect muriatic acid would do the trick.) There was a display of items we had left behind. One was some kind of patriotic / military thing. Later, my father was walking alone in the front yard of that house, wearing a formal short-sleeved shirt and bolo tie. His hair was white. He looked thoughtful or perhaps preoccupied, and my distinct impression was that right then, he was sad.