I spoke little about my boyfriend in a previous story, but thought it deserved a story of its own in loving memory of him. This all happened when I was fifteen years old and he (I will call him Dave) was eighteen years old. We spent a lot of time together everyday even attending each other's family reunions and short family trips. His parents liked me just as much as my parents liked him. Dave had just graduated from high school and started working full time building and crafting by hand wooden signs for businesses. He was very proud of his work and often took me to his company to show me what he was building. Very talented, he could craft wood into anything you could imagine.
One night driving away from his company heading towards a friend's house, I had one of my occurrences. I never told him about the gift I had because I normally didn't speak freely about it. Well, this was the night he began to learn of it. I don't think he liked it too much, but I felt I needed to warn him. I told him to watch his speed limit, he was going to get a ticket. He gave me a strange look and told me he wasn't speeding.
Then low and behold, I had another one. I told him to be careful because he was going to get a flat tire. Strange look again. Almost to our destination, everything was going well, until he found the place he was going to park. Then the nice little explosion came and the dirt went flying. His tire exploded. It was so loud you could hear the air coming out of the tire. Of course, he got out of the truck and he wasn't so happy with me. All I could say was, "I told you to be careful". Luckily he had a spare tire. That was the first time I had ever seen him angry, yet it was mild compared to most others. Not too much later, he got over it and we didn't speak about it again.
The next day I met Dave at his house after he got off work as planned. He came storming in the door waving papers around, again not so happy. I knew it before he said anything. He was upset because he didn't just get one ticket, he got two. I had to remind him that I just warned him and I didn't give him the tickets. Soon he got over it again and didn't speak of it again.
Several days later we went on a trip to the bay with two of our friends. He took us down a long dirt road to a large pier overlooking the bay. We walked around for a few hours and then sat on the pier talking until evening came. Everything was fine until it was time to leave. When he parked his truck, he didn't realize that 2 of his tires were in thick mud. The tires had actually sunk into it a little and we couldn't get the truck back onto the road. As we stood around thinking about how we were going to get his truck out, I had a very overwhelming feeling come over me. I knew something very bad was going to happen to Dave. I wasn't sure when or what, but I knew it wasn't going to be good at all. I stood lost in thought trying to find the answer to what I was feeling and hearing.
When Dave caught my attention, I looked up at him and the fear hit me even harder. On his left cheek was mud, perfectly formed into a holy cross. I know he was talking to me, but I wasn't listening. Thoughts kept running through my head. He finally snapped me out of it and told me of their wonderful plan. He wanted me and my friend to sit in the front seat all the way to the right to put weight on that side of truck while he gunned it to hopefully get it back on the road.
Well let me tell you, I didn't do too well with this idea and I expressed it very clearly. On the very right side of the road was a cliff that dropped about 10-12ft into the bay and there was nothing blocking the road from the edge. I kept quickly trying to get a clear vision or premonition of when the event would take place, but got nothing more. So the thoughts kept running. Is he going to die today or is this just another piece of the puzzle warning me that we are all going to die? Not a good feeling. I did finally step foot into that truck that day and as I sat there, I squeezed my eyes shut and I prayed really hard that we would make it out alive and okay. And we did, but that feeling never went away.
Later that week, we had our differences and stopped seeing each other. Terrible to say, but it kind of made it easier on me. Seeing him every day and knowing something was going to happen to him was hard. I didn't tell him what I knew. I thought that maybe if I didn't say anything then maybe it won't happen.
A week later I was at my friend's house and saw him. He wanted me to go somewhere with him to talk, but I told him I was with a friend and couldn't just leave her. I always thought that was rude when people did that so I tried not to be that way. I still today wish I did go with him then because it was the last time I would see him alive.
He went to work one day and never made it home. An older woman whom had taken a prescribed medication, past out driving and instead of hitting the brake she hit the gas pedal. Sad to say her car landed right on top of him. His death made front page of the newspapers. It was one of the worst days of my life. I lost a friend.
Shortly after his death, he did come to me several times. I was standing around with several of my friends and we kept hearing rustling in the leaves next to us, but no animals to cause it. There was no breeze. I knew it was him. I could feel it. As my friends were looking at me with strange expressions, I told them it was Dave. They freaked out and wanted to leave, although I told them he wouldn't hurt them.
The next morning, the day of his funeral, I woke up to knocking on my bedroom door. I knew it was him. Before I even made it to the door, I asked him to give me another sign. I have a difficult time seeing while awake, but have done so on one occasion. The phone rang immediately and I answered only to hear static. He was gone.
Later a friend of mine came over and I told her what happened and as soon as I mentioned the phone ringing, it rang immediately again. I answered and again heard static. I didn't know it was possible to channel then, otherwise I would have then. I felt at peace with him. Although, I think I heard him. I felt he wanted me to visit his parent's house. During the funeral, the lights surrounding his casket blinked for a good period of time. Everyone spoke of this for a long while. There were so many people there, so many that people had to stand in the hallway. There was barely enough room for the cars to park for his burial. Being at the funeral, I was glad he could see how many people really cared about him. His kindness to others left a lasting impression on many.
I did finally make it to his parent's house that week. They thanked me for spending time with their son during the last months of his life and that he was very happy during those months. They brought out the stuffed animal we had signed together during a family reunion we went to together. We spoke for a good while that night and I apologized to them for not being able to save their son. It was like they already knew of my ability.
Then they pulled out a picture of him, a picture I will not forget for the rest of my life. It was the last picture ever taken of him. He went to the mountains with co-workers shortly before his death and they took a picture of him at night time on the very top of a mountain. Up above him, high into the clouds, a beam of light came down through the clouds and shined directly down upon him. It looked like a picture out of the Bible. They said when the picture was taken that light wasn't there.
I haven't heard from Dave again, ever since I went to his parent's house that day. I feel between me and his parents, he had spoken. His parent's were also experiencing things, such as opening and closing cupboards. I still wonder today if he is still at his parents. Perhaps it was my job to help him find his way home, but I didn't know that was possible then.