I am starting to appreciate more my gift now that I see what my grandmother went through.
It is tough knowing things will happen but be powerless stop them. This entry brings that all home for me.
February 10, 1945 – My Fifteenth Birthday
Today is my fifteenth birthday; I was out riding my bike with my friends.
They all wanted to go up the escarpment but I felt something was wrong. I begged
them not to go either but they insisted. They made fun of me thinking I was a
chicken so I went home crying. They can be so mean sometimes.
I had my
dream again today. It was about the same awful thing that happened to me when I
was 11. The day my mom was taken from me. My dad consoled me but only until he
was taken too. I don’t like to remember that time. Everyone blames me but it was
not my fault. I told them I didn’t do anything but they said that was the
problem, maybe I should have done something to help them.
February 11, 1945
My friends trust me again. They said they were sorry they didn’t listen to me. It seems I was right something did happen. Tommy was riding slightly ahead of the group. A car was coming down the escarpment as they were going up. It lost control and hit Tommy and he went off the cliff with the car. He was taken to hospital but he didn’t make it. I felt bad that I didn’t insist more that they not go. They all said they would trust my instinct from now on.
I hate being right. I hate having this foresight. Its frustrating because you know what is going to happen but you can't do anything about it. You are helpless. Nobody listens to you. I was helpless back when my mom was taken. My voice was not there. I tried to yell but nothing came out. I failed my mom back then because I did not yell. I am not going to make that mistake again. I am always going to tell people my dreams and feelings.