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Magic as in abracadabra? No. While I do love a great illusion and took several trips in the 80s to see the shows of David Copperfield, for me it’s simply entertainment.

However, that doesn’t mean I don’t believe there are things science cannot explain.

Early in the summer I was fifteen, I dreamed of my maternal grandfather’s death and funeral service. It struck me as weird since he and I weren’t close. There were no ill feelings or anything like that. I thought my grandmother hung the moon and the stars, but could take or leave Granddaddy.

I didn’t tell anyone and forgot about it until six weeks later when the call came about Granddaddy dying from major heart attack at home.

From that point on, everything unfolded exactly as I’d dreamed. The trip from Michigan to Mississippi. The things which were said by some family members at the viewing and service. Even the dress I wore to the funeral which was not the dress I’d packed, but a dress Mom bought in Mississippi to go with the family theme and color scheme. (They do stuff like that for EVERY family gathering.)

But still, I kept my mouth shut.

It was weeks later in the fall when I finally told my best friend, Barbara, who to this day, forty-six years later, still calls me “Witchy” or “Witchetta.” Almost thirty years would pass before I told Mom… after my grandmother’s funeral.

It also took me weeks to sleep normally again, because while I never believed I was responsible for Granddaddy’s death, I didn’t want to dream of losing another family member… perhaps someone closer to me.