On July 12, 1999, I had a dream in which my deceased mother appeared to me. She told me that she loved me, and that she wanted to talk to me about some things. She reached for my hand-and then I woke up.
My mother was shot and murdered, two feet away from me, at the age of 29. I was 10 at the time. This happened on July 15, 1980. Every year around the anniversary of her death, it is quite difficult. Last year I still had not come to terms with everything even though 19 years had passed.
The next morning I told my husband about my dream. He told me maybe she really came to visit, but the only way she could talk to me was in my sleep. The next evening, I had the same dream again, but I don’t know if I was really asleep or not. I felt very weird when I woke up, like someone was in my room. After a few hours had passed, I went back to sleep. The next day seemed very strange. My mother’s favorite songs kept playing on the radio, and other familiar things connected to her kept popping up.
Late on the night of the anniversary of her death, I felt deeply depressed and overwhelmed with grief. I decided to take a hot bath to try and relax so I could go to sleep. I lit candles, turned out the lights, and stepped into my bubble bath. After half an hour, I heard a women’s voice singing to me. Being a song writer and vocalist, I could not get the song out of my head. It played with such a sweet melody over and over.
I suddenly jumped up out of the bath and threw on a robe. “What are you doing?” my husband asked.
“I am going to write down this song I keep hearing in my head,” I replied.
I wrote the verses, the choruses, and the music in 15 minutes, then sang it into a tape recorder. I realized that it was my mother singing to me. The song is called “I Never Got To Say Goodbye.”
My husband and I recorded the song three days later. It was very hard for me to sing. One day I burst into tears in the recording room. I felt someone put their arm around me and whisper in my ear. “It is okay, honey, I will help you because nobody can sing this song but you.”
When my husband realized I wasn’t singing, he came into the room and asked what was wrong. I couldn’t answer. He patted me on the back and said, “It’s okay honey, don’t cry. Nobody can sing this song but you.” I almost fainted.
I had not sung for years before this happened. My mother always dreamed that I would make it big as a vocalist. Well, I have started recording a CD, which will be completed in 2001. I know that I would not be singing if I had not had that experience-nor would I have the peace I have today in regards to her death. She is still with me, and she always be. She watches over me and helps guide me everyday.
-Dawn Marie Gladd, Tahlequah, Okla.
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