Dreaming of a broken home

Quite often in my dreams I visit the places that comforted me in my youth. It could be just a room, a person, a feeling or even an old pet. Then, when I wake up, I feel a sobering sadness when I realize it wasn’t real.
Just now, I dreamt of a cool winters night where I had just awoken from a dream. There was our old Christmas tree in the corner of our old living room and classic rock blaring from the stereo. I was just bumming around the house talking to my dad. He was still my childhood vision of my father… before our falling out, before I grew up and moved out. I had found comfort in the feeling of youth and the protection that I used to feel in the house where I grew up. We joked about Joss Wheadon and Firefly, then went through a box of some of his old things from his childhood.
There was such a beauty in the nostalgia and simplicity of the dream; Because in my waking life I have lost feelings of innocence, stability (that can only come from the protection of your parents), and the feeling of weightlessness that can only be described as youth. Though bittersweet, these dreams are constantly plaguing my subconscious mind, perhaps trying to send me a message to find these things in my current stage of life.