As She Lay Dying

Throughout my adult life I have had psychic experiences.  Among other things, I somehow know when someone is going through bad times; when they are sick, depressed.  I don't know why I pick up those feelings.  I don't look for them.  Maybe it's because my mother has them.  Nevertheless, it happens every now and then and I'm come to accept it.

One of my first experiences occurred during the early morning hours of my 22nd birthday:  August 5, 1962.

My husband and I lived in Bloomington, Illinois.  We had gone out for dinner that night with friends Mike and Janet, and after we got home we settled in to watch television. 

I usually stayed up late on weekend nights; however, at around 10:00 a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over me.  I felt as though I had been doing deep physical labor all day or running for miles.  And then I got so sleepy that I could hardly hold my eyes open.

I reluctantly went to bed.

I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours.  Which was unusual for me; I normally went to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.  I was restless, anxious, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Finally, I drifted off to sleep. 

 

I woke with a start.  I knew Carroll was still in the living room; I could hear the murmurings of the television, see intermittent flashes on the bedroom wall from the changing of the scenes.  Other than that, there were no other noises.

So what had awakened me?        

 

Suddenly, an icy shiver zipped through my body.  I snapped to attention:  What on earth was that?  I was shaking, now, teeth chattering.  It was a hot August night, so why was I so cold?  

I didn't have time to ponder on it.  The ice-cold feeling was quickly replaced with feelings of isolation and hopelessness, darkness.  It was as though I were all alone in the world.  The clock on the night stand pointed to 2:05, and a thought ran through my mind:  Thank heavens I'm safe and cozy in my bed with many people who love and care about me.  How awful it would be if I were all alone in the world right now!  

I was not sad or depressed, so I knew the feelings weren't my own.  And then I realized I was picking up the feelings of someone else.

But who?

I was still trying to figure it all out when the dark, empty feeling lifted.  I became very calm and peaceful and soon fell into a restful sleep.

The next morning, as I was stirring up batter for pancakes, I turned the radio on.  "Marilyn Monroe," the announcer said, "Dead at 36."

It has been fifty years since Marilyn Monroe's death.  And the time of her death has been debated for years and years.  Some say she died around 9 or 10 p.m., Saturday night, August 4; others say it was near midnight.  But I think it was sometime after 2:05 a.m. on August 5.  And as much as I would like to believe otherwise, I think I was experiencing her thoughts and feelings as she lay dying.