A few days ago, I finished reading a novel in which the main
character had visions. There was
discussion in the book about whether or not it is possible for a person to see
what is going on in someone else’s life when they are not in physical proximity. One of the characters in the book, who was
counselling the person who had the visions, believed this was possible if there
was a close emotional bond between the person in the vision and the person
having the vision. I was reminded of
something my Mother told me years ago.
During World War II, all the men in my family in the
generation before me were in the military.
My Dad was in France. His brother
was a medic on a hospital ship in the Pacific.
One of my Mother’s brothers was in north Africa, and the other two were
in Europe.
It was a difficult time for both sides of my family. My grandfathers were the only men around in
either household. There was a lot of
stress, and my Mother was pregnant with me.
One night during this time, my Mother awakened in a cold sweat. She had heard her brother Frank call out, “Laurena,
I’ve been shot!”
Communications at this time were not instantaneous as they are
now. Time passed…I don’t know if it was
days or weeks…before the family received word that Frank had indeed been shot
by a German sniper. His elbow was
shattered and required a metal plate, but his life was spared.
Apparently, he got most of the use of his arm back, as my
Mother told me that when he came home, he used to lift me to the ceiling and
purposely hit my head on it. This
apparently caused me to call him Bink instead of Uncle Frank. In any event, I was delighted and would squeal,
“Do it again Bink.” Perhaps I was
unknowingly participating in his physical therapy.
I have wondered about this incident. My Mother didn’t dwell on it and never
mentioned any similar experiences. I
suppose one could say it was a coincidence.
Obviously with all the young men in harm’s way, the family was
experiencing anxiety. But it was Frank
she heard call to her, and it was Frank who caught the bullet. My Mother had a great deal of affection for
all three of her brothers, and they all seemed to adore her…so who knows? Perhaps an emotional bond can span the Atlantic
Ocean.
