My mother. She lived with me for the last few years of her life and it was not an easy situation. I was not the nicest person at times. I would love to tell her how sorry I am, and how much I love her. ?

I would give anything to be with my wife again, but not if I had to say goodbye again.

I miss my grandparents most of all. This was my mother's parents and I lived with them during early formative years. Mom always told me that it wasn't true. She said she just let me spend summer vacations with them. The problem with that idea was that others remembered too, and I found early school pictures from there at a later time. I loved my mother but she tried to rob me of these memories, possibly because at that time you would not be considered a good mother if your parents raised your child. By age 9 mom had me back with her again, and she had re-married. It was after mom died that I found my early school pictures, but I went to school with my cousins and they knew the facts of it all along. Part of my issues with mom were that she was wanting to wipe out my early memories. She last tried this with me about a year before she died. I think she had come to believe what she had always told me.

Grandma?
Hi.

You're still dead and can't hear me because of it.

It's a tie...

Dad: "I thought we had more time" and
Husband: "Check out our kids! They're turning out ok!!!"

I miss both so much!

I said everything I could. id like to show my dad who thought I was useless what I've achieved maybe but I cant. he is dead.

John Lennon - Id thank him for all of the great music, and the great messages he gave to the world.

I kind of did, in a way. Yeah, I know, non-falsifiable, could be a figment of my imagination but could be possible - though even if there is no god like theists think there is, we have no idea what is or isn't included in nature.

Anyway, oh, no, crud, I just realized that not only is tomorrow night the anniversary, but it happened on a Friday too, and I did not find out until Sunday, April 1st - April Fool's Day - and it took a whole year for me to accept that he really had died, and it wasn't just some horrible April Fool's prank gone wrong.

28 years ago tomorrow night, my boyfriend died in a car accident. I had spoken to him the Wednesday before. We were in a long distance relationship, and he was miserable. He hated his job, and he wanted to move back to be with his other friends and me, but he had been paid his annual salary in advance to move to California - and a very enticing salary at that. He really didn't want to have to put on his resume that he had spent less than a year at this job. He was brilliant - had his Master's degree in math at the age of 21, very responsible, and it would have only been 5 more months for him to finish the year - but he hated the job badly enough that he was willing to pay them back the whole thing and just leave now. But he felt like he couldn't deal with the guilt of that.

We talked a very long time. He just hated having to figure out something new every day. Whenever there was any kind of problem at the company that no one else could figure out, they would bring it to him. He just wanted to do the same thing, over and over again, every day. I suggested he teach math at a college. The pay was significantly less, but he would be happy, and there were colleges nearby, and right now would be a great time to file applications to start in the fall semester. That way he would know that he was getting out of there soon, and have a job already lined up to go to after his year ended in August. He agreed that sounded like the best plan.

I also suggested he go watch a movie. Something funny. He said he would on Friday after the work week was over. Just before we hung up, I said "I love you" and he hung up the phone. Long distance calls were expensive in those days, so it wasn't uncommon that we would only speak to each other once a week.

On Sunday, I found out that he had been out later than usual - I assume that meant he'd gone to the movies - and around 11:00 p.m., he'd gotten into a one person crash going 85 mph into a concrete offramp, and died instantly.

My roommates insisted it was suicide, and it was my fault because I was the last of any of us to talk to him. It was April Fool's Day, I thought that he'd gotten his roommates, my roommates, and his mother to all help him play a really horrible April Fool's prank on me. Months later, since he didn't say "I love you" back, I thought maybe he wanted to break up with me, and decided to do it through a horrible April Fool's prank. It was a year later, when I called his apartment and he didn't answer the phone, when I finally realized he really was dead. The thing I couldn't stand not knowing though was whether or not he had heard me say "I love you" before he hung up the phone.

One night I dreamed that I was in a white room, seated at a simple white table, facing a wall with a door and a wide window that looked into another white area next to a white hallway leading up to the door. There was a guy wearing white behind me. It seemed kind of like a hospital.

Shortly, I saw through the window that a couple of guys wearing white were bringing Jon, also wearing white, up the hall to the door, and they entered the room, and Jon sat down across from me. The guys were standing on both sides of him. I asked "Did you hear me say "I love you?"

His shoulders dropped, and he sounded disappointed when he said "No." He then got back up and walked back where he came from, escorted by the two guys. Then I woke up, but I realized that it didn't feel like a dream in a way that was very unusual - not like any dream I'd ever had before.

Yeah, there are all kinds of explinations for that, but since then there has only been one other dream that felt just like that. Something, some things, that were just entirely too much for me to handle emotionally were actually going on in my waking life. During that time, I dreamed that I was in an old, wooden farmhouse with a bunch of older children to younger teens running and wandering around. An ex-boss' mother came into the room, took one look at me sitting on the couch, and said "Yep, we'd better get her dog for her." Shortly, one of the young teens showed up with 3 dogs on leashes, and one of them was my dog (that I'd fairly recently had to give away). She was really happy to see me, tail wagging so hard her whole back half was going side to side, just like usual when she'd greet me. I gave her a hug and woke up, feeling better. Again, it didn't feel like a dream in the same way that the dream about Jon hadn't felt like a dream, but I didn't know at that time that my old boss' mother and my dog were both already dead at the time of that dream.

Make of that whatever you will, but that's what I mean by I kind of already did speak to someone who died.

I would fall asleep with all the cats that have been in my life in one big furpile after calling each of them by name.

It would be my dad, and I'd tell him how much I miss him and how proud I am, even all these years later, that I had such a terrific father and what a difference that made in my life. I'd tell him about my sons and what excellent men they are now, and tell him about my brother's boy whom he never got to meet, who is so much like him. Dad died in 1990 when he was only 56.