After Tom was gone, as I lay all alone in the bed we used to share, crying my heart out, night after night, distracted thoughts raced through my mind. Suddenly, I remembered the dream I'd had over a year ago, the death truck dream. In the dream, I was gazing out my kitchen window at a large black pickup truck which rolled slowly and ominously up beside my home and stopped. Its presence chilled my heart, and I knew it was death. Recounting the strange dream to Tom the next morning, little did I suspect that I had seen the legendary death coach of Irish folklore, the Coiste Bower, which signifies the inevitability of death. "Once it comes to earth, it can never return empty, because some greater power has decreed a person's death and mortals may do nothing to prevent it." (Wikipedia) Now, only a little over a year later, he was gone. The death coach had its passenger. Blame my Irish grandmother for this dubious gift of second sight, something I'd always considered merely an ignorant superstition. But I was about to learn how permeable the veil between life and death is and how closely bound and intimately cherished our earthly loves and endeavors are by our creator.
I knew that large black pickup truck meant death, but back then, I had only a mortal idea of what death was and meant. And I'd never paid much attention to my dreams. But there it was. The death coach had come to my door and had taken my husband away from this life. To where? How could that possibly be? What was I thinking? Was I losing my mind? Yet, when I thought about it, I had had several experiences over the course of my life which had aroused my curiosity about psychics, paranormal events, and had even prompted me to take a closer look at the bible, keeping a more open mind to the possibility of supernatural events being real, although I'd previously regarded it merely as an ancient book of good advice for living.
Over the years, there had been several previous experiences which I had never been able to explain or forget. But now that the death coach dream proved there was a truer version of reality than what appeared in real life, I recalled those events and began to explore the possibility that they had been real experiences, not just quirks of my imagination.