On January 27, 2003 I lost my husband of fifteen years to a depression-related suicide. The days following his tragic passing were a blur and my family came to be at my side while I got through the services and began my transition to life as a young widow.

As we sat in front of the fireplace that evening, I was sharing with my sister what I hadn't talked about up until then -- the events of the day my husband died and how I found him the evening I came home from the office.

My sister's face turned white and she placed her hand over her mouth as I spoke. "Oh, no", she said, "it was you in my dream, not Mom." I remained silent as she told me the dream which she had the night before my husband's suicide:

"It was dark in my dream and I found myself at the bottom of the stairway in a house I wasn't familiar with. In front of me was a woman in a skirt and a loose jacket. The jacket swished as she walked up the steps. Someone kept telling me to grab the jacket and stop the person from ascending the stairs. The harder I tried to reach the jacket, the more out of reach the person became.

"Finally, I got to the top of the stairs and I saw a gate to my left but couldn't make out the noises coming from behind it. I had a terrible feeling of dread as I realized that the person I was supposed to keep from climbing the stairs was gone. I was so upset, I woke up and told my husband, Ted, that I thought my deceased mother was the person on the stairs and it was urgent that I stop her from climbing them but I couldn't. She was moving too fast. The dream was so unsettling that I couldn't fall asleep again. Then at midnight, the telephone rang and it was the news about the suicide."

I was in too much shock at the time to let in the reality of what my sister had said. It wasn't until years later that it really hit me. It was me who was on the stairway in the loose jacket. In fact, it was in the bathroom at the top of the stairs where I found my husband's body. And the gate to the left of the stairs was actually a doggie gate which corralled my three little Yorkies until I came home each evening. The noise my sister could not discern as coming from behind the gate was the sound of the Yorkies barking.

My husband left a suicide note and in it he said "I will try to be with you to guide you." There is no doubt in my mind that my deceased husband sent my sister this dream as a way of asking her to intervene and stop me from finding the scene I walked into. She has had no such vivid dreams since. My husband and I both believed in the eternal soul and spirit communication. Curt's note empowered me to reach out to him and I have often done so since his death.

Sharyn Johnson

Posted 8-18-08