One night in December 1993, I was putting my two-year-old daughter and three-month old son to bed. My husband was already asleep. As I lay down beside him, waiting to fall asleep, I heard a clear male voice saying: "Yes, put your arms around him; he might not be with you for much longer." I had such a fright, holding on tight to my sleeping husband; I thought to my self: "Why are you having this negative thought?" I was cold with fear.

Three months later, February 28, 1994 at 3:00 p.m., my husband was shot dead by a gang of armed robbers. He died in the line of duty. On that day, I lost my husband, the father of my children, my lover, my best friend....and my life changed forever.

Two days before his funeral, I had a dream. I saw him in a beautiful place: green grass, sun, a light breeze. He was looking at me and smiling; his eyes were the bluest blue and the breeze was blowing through his blond hair. He did not speak, but looked very happy. I heard music, the song of a local singer, Sonja Heroldt: "Ek verlang na jou" - "I miss you."

A year or two after he died, I was all alone in a new house; my children were visiting their grandparents. After midnight, I was awakened by a loud voice calling my name once. It was so loud and sounded so real that at first I thought there was someone outside the door. But when I got up, I was all alone. It confused me, because the voice was my (dead) husband's voice.

I dreamt of him regularly in those days, always feeling that he was in fact really with me and not just in a dream. Today, nearly twenty years after his death, I still have the occasional dream of him, and the next morning, I feel refreshed, thinking: "Wow, it was good to see you again!"

Elize Steyn Pretoria , South Africa

Posted 8-28-11