The last psychic event that happened several months before Tom became terminally ill, while we were doing his Youtube videos. During the summer of 2008, I had the dream that, even now, I hate to remember. It was a dream visit from the legendary death coach of Irish folklore, the Coiste Bower. In my dream, it was an oversize black pickup truck, which slid solemnly and silently up to the curb just outside our kitchen window and stopped, waiting for its passenger. It was unhurried, inevitable death. It's a dream I can never forget. Even now the memory of it chills my heart.

Ever since my Desert Heat airplane Time Lapse prediction, I had been researching psychic phenomena, trying to figure out what it was all about. I watched the TV show Medium and was aware that Allison Dubois got a lot of her information from her dreams. Tom and I had often laughed that the actor playing her husband must get very tired of doing so many scenes in his pajamas in bed. That's all I knew of psychic dreams. I'd heard that some people keep dream diaries, but my dreams were too ordinary to bother about.

But not this dream. In this dream, my heart and spirit knew with complete certainty that the black truck was death arriving at my door. It was somber death. Solemn death. I woke up with a sinking heart. It wasn’t nightmare scary. It was the darkness and finality of death. A heaviness of heart. A going away.

At the time, I had never heard of the Irish legend of the Coiste Bower, nor did I know that once it is sent to earth, death is inevitable, because it can never go back empty. I told Tom about the dream, because it had really unnerved me. He was curious and wondered if it could mean one of our friends was going to die. We were extra nice to some of our friends who had challenging health problems, fearing we might lose them soon.

A few months later, in November, Tom was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. After he became sick, we never mentioned the black truck dream again. We were far too busy with cancer treatments to even think about dreams. But the dream came true. By the next September Tom was gone. The death coach had its passenger. I still dread having another dream like that. Being even a little psychic is not an unmixed blessing.



Recently, I have read that some people think dreams like mine are simply the mind sensing illness in a close partner. But that was not the case, because I had exactly the same dream about a week later. That awful truck came again, which really puzzled and scared me all over again. In hindsight, I realized that second visit foretold the passing that next spring of the widowed mother of my good friend and upstairs neighbor of eleven years. Her mom lived nearby and was devoted to her daughter. The Coiste Bower had come to our little two-family house for her, too. And I had seen it.