I dreamt last night that I was at some unnamed monastic retreat with a number of people from high school. While there, I learned that my father had spent his youth at, of all places, the Saint Herman of Alaska Monastery in Platina, California. Surprised at this revelation, I sought to reach - by email, no less - its abbot, a Father Chrysostomos, but to no avail. It was upon awaking that I realized that this Fr. Chrysostomos was seemingly meant to be Fr. Damascene, the monastery's actual abbot, with my sleeping mind having somehow failed to recall his real name.
Considering that I haven't thought about anything related to any of that in quite a few months, it was a little odd. Still, probably a better dream than most.