Daily Mail - - Femailmaga­zine -

DUR­ING the Eight­ies, I owned a small res­i­den­tial home for el­derly peo­ple. After serv­ing din­ner one evening, I’d gone into the gar­den to en­joy some fresh air when I was over­whelmed by a feel­ing that a ma­jor air dis­as­ter was im­mi­nent. Once I’d handed over to my night staff, I anx­iously switched on the 10 O’Clock News — to hear the tragic news of the Locker­bie air dis­as­ter. Some months later, I was wo­ken at 2.15am by a voice ask­ing: ‘Is any­one there?’ It was un­mis­tak­ably the voice of Mary, one of the res­i­dents in the home. How­ever, she was in hos­pi­tal at the time. A quick check of all our rooms proved ev­ery­one was soundly asleep, but I con­tin­ued to worry about Mary. Once break­fast was over I rang the hos­pi­tal, only to be told that Mary had died at 2.15am. These events should have taught me not to ig­nore other psy­chic mes­sages, but the next time it hap­pened, my ra­tio­nal mind still dis­missed it as a night­mare. In a dream I saw my mother ly­ing in bed, with knees flexed and her ab­domen look­ing like molten can­dle wax. It was so hor­rific that it woke me up. I did check on my mother, but she was per­fectly well at the time. A month later, how­ever, she died of a necrotic is­chemic bowel — mean­ing clot­ting within her gut was de­priv­ing her bowel of oxy­gen. I will never for­get how she lay with her knees flexed, gri­mac­ing due to the pain. Since then, I have paid more no­tice to psy­chic mes­sages, how­ever they are re­ceived. Anne Pick­er­ing, County Durham.

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