This true story begins with a mothers terrifying dream that foretold the accidental death of her adult son. She continued to have subtle premonitions that she didnt understand until it was too late. When her son died as the dream predicted, she was riddled with guilt at not having been able to save him. These premonitions raised tormenting questions about their source, purpose, and meaning. They propelled her on a journey through grief that followed every path from scientific theories to psychic communications with the spirit world. It was a lonely quest in a culture impatient with grief and dismissive of premonitions. In the end, it was through writing her story that she found healing. A cross still remains at the T-intersection of two county roads, still reminding passers-by of the vibrant young life that was snuffed out one summer day long ago. We often notice these small white crosses along roadways as we speed by. Draped with wilted flowers and faded ribbons, they stand in mute testimony to tragedies we try to ignore. They remind us that life can end in an instant.
