Feb. 23, 2020


I received a call late one night from my sister. I knew it was her before I touched the phone and I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be good so, when I answered, I asked, “What happened?”

She paused for several seconds before she finally answered, “It’s Bruce… he’s had an accident.”

“What kind of accident?” I pressed.

“A motorcycle accident,” she answered. “He’s dead. He was at a stoplight and some young couple ran the red light. The girl was driving and she said Bruce just ran right into them head on.”

I was so shocked. I literally could not think of anything appropriate to say. All I managed was, “Did they charge the girl with anything?”

“I don’t know,” my sister went on, “Karl, (our brother) said the young girl is about eighteen and she was hysterical. The police told him that Bruce went right through the windshield and landed on top of her. She was screaming ‘Get the dead guy off me!’ and, of course, she was covered in his blood.”

We talked for a little while longer and I assured her that in the morning my husband and I would make preparations to go to Arizona. After all, there was nothing we could do until morning anyway. Also, we would have to make arrangements for our kids to stay with someone until we could get back home.

Without question, I stayed up all night. I couldn’t sleep a wink. By 5:00 that morning, I had decided I wasn’t going to fight it anymore and I’d just crash after I got the kids off to school.

My daughter, who was ten at the time, came trudging from her room, yawning, and wiping sleep from her eyes.

“I had a really bad dream last night,” she said through her yawns. She talked using her hands to demonstrate the events of her dream. “It was really weird. I kept dreaming that this man was on a motorcycle and he plowed right through the windshield of a car. He landed on this blonde girl who was driving and she was screaming for someone to get the dead guy off of her.”

“What did you say?” I asked. She had no way of knowing what had happened.

“Yeah, weird, huh?” she said with a laugh.

This was not the first time she’s come out and told me of her dreams and it turned out be something real; something that’s happened so, I don’t know why I was so surprised. “Do you know who the guy was?”

“Nope, I never saw him before in my life, or her, either, but she sure wanted that dead guy off her. She was all crazy and everything!”

Without telling her details of the accident, we did explain that her uncle had passed and we were going to fly out to Arizona the next morning. However, I kept thinking about what the driver said, “Get the dead guy off me!” and my daughter repeating those words verbatim.

Before leaving, I dug an old picture of Bruce out of a box I had with old pictures of my family. It was the only one I had of him and I left it on the table while I went to nap. I was going to show the picture to my daughter when they came in from school.

I heard them when they came in so I got up and started toward the kitchen. My daughter was standing at the table holding the old photograph of my brother when she said, “Hey, Mom, how did you get a picture of the dead guy from my dreams?”