This past November 2023, I had been upset for literally a couple of months. I always remember, every September, an event that broke up my engagement to a man I loved very much. We were engaged to be married. We were living together. This period of time was the happiest I've ever been. I was 25 and had just graduated from nursing school. I received my RN. I was engaged. I received my license and had a job at the Children's Hospital Pediatric ICU. This was in Cincinnati, in August 1974, almost 50 years earlier.

The time period before that had been stressful: finals, graduation, state boards, starting a new job. Shortly after we were settling in, I found out I was pregnant. I was in denial. It was confirmed. I terminated the pregnancy against his wishes. This caused an irrevocable split in our relationship. We tried, but couldn't move past it. This past September, I once again remembered this and was very sad. However, instead of being sad a day or two, I had an overwhelming need to contact him and ask him to forgive me.

At this point, although stressed, I wasn't crying. I was still sleeping and eating. I googled him and he came up. Name address and phone. I saw the address and wondered if it was the same one we lived at. I continued to search and all that changed was the phone numbers at times. So I started calling numbers, pretty sure I'd contact him. After I called several numbers, they were all disconnected. The intensity for the need to contact him became overwhelming.

I googled everyone in Ohio with his name. Over 200 men. Since I've done tons of research for my graduate and post graduate degrees, I could pretty quickly weed through them. I kept searching. All the hits with his exact name and birthday lived in the same place. During one search I found his name and there was a totally different number. His name, his brother Jim and father were listed as relatives. I looked back up at his name and in bigger block type, under his name in red, was the word "deceased." I couldn't have missed that before.

I felt like someone punched me in the stomach and I started crying. I was frantic. I could never find that website again. That's when the next 3 months of uncontrollable grief started. I couldn't sleep. Had no appetite, wasn’t taking care of anything but my dog, Molly. I called Cincinnati Bell and they had no listing for him or his brother. I called the Ohio Department of Health records division. They confirmed his death, December 2014. I didn't believe he died. Thought they made a mistake.

I was crying continuously and decided I needed to go to a therapist. So I did. I told her this story and I felt I needed to go to a priest to confession (50 years) and talk to him too. She told me I had a delayed grief reaction. And touching base with my religion was a good idea. It was.

About 2-3 weeks after I saw the priest, I had the dream.

I was exhausted. Not eating. Sleep deprived, and my nurse practitioner gave me a low dose of Xanax to take when I started getting upset. It would stop me from crying for a couple of hours and I didn't want to use it a lot. The night or two nights before this experience I was inconsolable. I prayed, real prayers, for the first time in my life. I prayed to St. Jude for intercession. Told him I was in a very dark place. Isolated and very afraid and I was in despair, lost and grieving. That I was getting physically sick. That I needed something that was impossible. I needed to speak to David in person to ask him if he could forgive me. Not a dream, that would dissipate over days, of which only fragments would remain, but actually see, hear, feel him. The real live him.

I went to bed. Another night of tossing and turning. No sleep. I got up in the morning to let my dog out and make a cup of tea. I was crying a lot. About 3 pm I went up to take a nap. I can't remember if this was the day right after or the next day. I put my dog up on the bed, took half a Xanax and got into bed. I don't remember anything after that. Just getting onto the bed.

The first thing I remember after that was standing in the Cincinnati Airport with my cellphone in my hand. I was wondering if I should call the only number for him that I hadn't called, but thinking I just couldn't take one more disconnected number. I had flown in from Richmond and had booked a room at the airport Hilton overnight because my return flight was in the morning. (It was about 7:30pm at night in November 2023 in Cincinnati.) So I decided to dial the number.

I was shocked. A woman answered. Her voice was beautiful. Soft and pleasant. I asked her if this was the W. household. She said yes it was. And if a D. W. lived there. Yes! He does. I asked if she would be OK with me speaking to him. I was an old friend from 50 years ago and I was here overnight and thought I'd see if I could talk to him. She said of course and called him to the phone. I thought to myself, "That was easy." He got on the phone and I asked him several questions. He said, not mean but abruptly, "Who is this?" I said, M. C. There was no response. I thought my name just didn't sit well and that he hung up. Then he said, "I've waited 50 years for you to call me." I was a bit shocked!

He then asked where I was. I told him I was at the airport and needed to speak to him face to face preferably. Only if his wife agreed and didn't mind. Or maybe she'd agree to us talking on the phone. He started laughing and said, “Wife? I'm not married. That's my housekeeper." I told him that was unfair because even I didn't have one. I told him if he was amenable, I'd take an uber to his place, or meet him at a restaurant or here at the Hilton and get dinner and a drink and talk. He asked me where at the airport I was. I told him the Delta terminal at the baggage claim. He told me he'd come to the airport and get me, but it'd take about 40 minutes. I told him I'd sit and wait for him to pull up and come in. Told me he'd see me shortly. I didn't ask him what kind of car. It'd been 50 years. This is so me.

I noticed there were 2 pieces of luggage on the conveyor belt at the Delta baggage station for my flight. It didn't bother me or that I was the only person in the airport. I heard footsteps and looked up. I asked if it was him, although I knew it was. His face wasn't totally in focus but I recognized and knew it was him. He told me he'd recognize me anywhere. He said he was in the garage and wanted me to walk with him. We got into the garage and I looked up. I was shocked. The1969 vintage blue VW beetle was there. Flawless. I asked him if that was his car. He said it was. I told him it didn't have a scratch or dent. He said he knew. I asked if he and Jim (his brother) had taken up restoring antique cars as a hobby and he just smiled. He took my overnight bag and I got in the car. I could smell the new car smell and noticed the interior was flawless. When he got in I asked him if he ever drove the car. He said yes, I have.

All during this dream he didn't lie, but would answer equivocally to some questions. So, no lies. We drove up I-75 to Cincinnati. I absolutely know it was 75. It was dark out, about 9:30pm at this point. I asked why he didn't let me take an uber to his house. He said, "I've come to take you home." I thought that was an interesting way to say let’s go to my place and have a glass of wine.

In a little while I asked him if he could ever forgive me for what I did to him and our life. He told me he had forgiven me "decades ago." Another interesting phrase. He also told me he'd always loved me and still did. I wasn't upset nor did I cry. We took an off ramp in the city that leads up to UC. I asked him if he still lived there. He said yes. I thought some people just don't like change. We pulled onto Clifton Ave. then turned left onto Ludlow. Then right 2 streets down and I asked him if this was the way to where our house was. He said yes. I looked up and pointed to a street sign and asked if that wasn't the street we lived on and wasn't our house about 3 or so from the corner. Yes. We pulled up in front of the house and I was shocked. It looked exactly the same as when I lived there. I could clearly see it because of the street lighting

We went inside. It was even more eerie. It looked exactly like it did. I looked to my right; on a telephone table was the black rotary dial phone we had. I asked him if it was the same one. Yes. I asked him if it worked and if Cincinnati Bell infrastructure supported a 50-year-old phone. His answer was, "Well, you called me on it." I was shocked and asked him where his cellphone was. He told me he didn't have one. He didn't need one. I thought to myself, how lucky can a person be.

It went on with more exact things. The couch. The kitchen appliances, etc. He made me some toast and tea and remembered exactly how I liked both. Said he remembered everything about me. I was shocked. Then he took my hand and we were walking toward the bedroom and said he wanted to make love to me. I said absolutely not. That's not why I came to see him. He smiled and said, "I know."

We went into the bedroom and there was lovely yellow sunlight coming in the window. It was warm and sunny and perfect. I looked at the bed, noticing the sheets. They were the same ones he bought me when I started staying with him. Tiny pink and blue roses. I looked up at him and wasn't shocked but told him he looked exactly like he did at 26! He told me he was 26. I didn't doubt that. When he told me I was 25, I said no. I was 74 and an old lady. He told me, very kindly, to turn around and look at myself. I was so shocked I turned around pointing my finger at him and asked him what was going on. Why was he doing this to me?

He very calmly and lovingly asked me to turn around and look in the mirror. The first thing I saw was my graduation picture from nursing school. I had gotten him one and had it framed. Looking into the mirror, I was shocked. I looked exactly like I had at 25. I was perplexed. I saw him in the mirror in back of me in clearer focus. He told me again he wanted to make love and again I said no. I was 74 and didn't come here to have sex. I came to talk with him about what happened and ask him to forgive me. He said I know. He picked me up and placed me in the middle of the bed and covered me up. Got in next to me and covered up and held me. Hugged me. I had this indescribable sensation of love. Not sexual.

The room was now full of a filtered soft light. It was all around me. I couldn't see anything but the light and myself. I could hear and feel him holding me. I told him I never wanted him to stop holding me. He held me tighter and the feeling was immense. Love, forgiveness, acceptance -- everything good and right. He told me I was pregnant with his baby. At that point I sort of told him no. I couldn't get pregnant again and I was 74. He said look at yourself. I did. I was totally shocked. I literally was 25.

Next, we were standing up. The light was enveloping everything but us. He had my hand and I sensed he was leading me somewhere. I could see him and me only. There was no sense of up, down, left, or right. He said I have a question to ask you. I said okay. He asked if I would carry our baby to birth. At that split second I knew I had a choice. I said yes. He told me we would be unbelievably happy, raise our family; we were to be married but not that second. I didn't want this to stop. I didn't want to leave. He told me there were a few small things I had to do first. Then we'd be a family and I'd never have to worry about anything ever again, not even money. I'd experience a type of love I can't imagine. That it would be immeasurable and forever. I looked up through the light and in a distance saw a little white house with a dog running around and knew that's where I'd be.

Then, I felt like I was pulled back and was suddenly wide awake. Looked around my room because the last place I was at was D's and my house. I looked at Molly and asked her what the H just happened to me.

In March 2024, I was waking up on my side and felt someone next to me with arms around me. I knew it was him. He told me not to worry, when the time came, he'd be here to take my hand to take me back with him.

This whole 6 month long (painful) experience, ending with something I never ever thought could happen to me, has given me a totally different perspective on my life. I'm not afraid of dying. I realize there is an afterlife. I instinctively know what those "little things" I need to do are. I went back to my church. I've learned that I have to forgive myself. I need to forgive several other people. I need to stop trying to control things I have no control over. I will be with him and our baby in a place—a much, much better place.