A Precognitive Dream that helped me prepare for my mother's death is included in my book Dream Moments, prophecy and intuition.
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"Your mother will die on January twenty-eight, 1988, and you will help her to cross over."
'Who are you?' Dazed, waking slowly from a deep sleep, I jumped out of bed and slipped my feet into cold leather slippers. Grabbing the angora sweater from the back of the rocking chair, I put it on top of my flannel nightgown and ran out the door. The old dilapidated station wagon was covered with a dusting of snow. Spike crystals of ice hung from the side of the car. The rusted door creaked open. Ice splattered across the frozen blacktop. In a futile attempt to keep warm, I blew on my hands, kicked the snow off my slippers, and slid across the icy leather seat.
"Start please," I begged the old car, pumping the gas pedal. The station wagon chugged, sputtered, and died.
"Turn over," I screamed.
"Go," I shouted, gripping the steering wheel.
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