My son Tom had many good friends at the time he passed away. One of them was Kristiane. She was the one to find him dead in his bed that fatal evening. She told me that a special dream made her go see him, in addition to him not answering his phone. This is her dream:
I dreamt that Tom had become the father of a son, a little fairhaired boy who looked just like him. In the dream, Tom would not admit to the boy being his son. We laughed and joked about this, teasing him about how hard it would be for him to escape his responsibilities this time.
Kristiane said that she told her friends about the dream in the local pub the same day, as she looked up at the window where Tom stayed. Something told her that she had to go and see him. She felt that something was not right. So she did, and then she found him dead, poor girl. Although it was too late, I thank her for taking care of him.
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