I woke up at 3:30. I tried going back to sleep but had this strong feeling that I should go in to sit with one of our hospice patients. I called security to make sure she was still alive.
After learning Betty was still alive, I dressed and left for the nursing home where she was a resident.
While on my way there, I recalled the dream I had before waking up. It involved my working as manager of the movie theater I used to manage in Monroeville, the Cinema 22.
It was closing time in my dream, around the time I would have to close down the box office for that night. However, I was outside, away from the theater, with some people at talking about the day's events in the shopping center.
All of a sudden, I remembered (in my dream) that it was closing time and I was not where I should be, in the theater with the cashier counting ticket sales.
I rushed around the corner into the theater.
When I entered, I shook the cashier's hand. It was very cold.
Then I went to the doorman. I shook his hand. It was very cold. In fact, he had been wearing gloves on duty. He had a graying beard and mustache.
My dream ended there.
At Betty's Bedside
Around 5:30, while sitting at Betty's bedside, I started thinking about why the Lord brought me there to sit with her. I started thinking about the dream.
I started asking the Lord to take her home, something she had asked for many times. I repeatedly asked that. I then leaned over close to her ear and told her not to be afraid, the Lord was waiting for her.
Two minutes later, her shallow breathing began to slow. It soon stopped. She passed away around 5:50 a.m. I contacted the staff to let them know.
Driving home, I began reflecting on the dream I had. I thought about the idea that I was not where I should have been and I had to hurry to be there.
I thought about the cold hands of the cashier and the doorman. I thought about the idea that the movie theater was about to close and the movie was ending.
Then another thought really struck me. I thought about the doorman with cold hands and a graying beard and mustache.
You see, the guard at the nursing home who checked me in when I arrived, had a graying beard, just like the doorman. And I had never seen him before. In fact, he could have been the doorman’s twin.
The Lord wanted me there when Betty went home to be with him. He made it happen.
