In the early hours of the first Monday of July I was gifted with a dream visitation from my dear Don. The dream was brief and powerful. We stood together outside in a semi deserted, wide open urban area. He gave me a gentle kiss. The visual then jumped to a stark medium sized room. Don was sitting at a small table in one corner with someone, it was unclear who it was. I was also with an unnamed person, at another small, cafe style table, in the opposite corner of the room. “I’m right over here” were the words he said in my head.

A few hours afterwards I walked into my front hall to find a pool of water on the floor and water dripping down the outside of the sliding cupboard doors. Same in the bedroom around the corner. The water was coming from the unit above me. Dashing upstairs I found my neighbour struggling with an out-of-control, overflowing washing machine.

I was able to reach the Maintenance Manager of the strata management company quite quickly and a member of our Board who is knowledgable about structural issues. The Restoration company was on site within an hour. It took a while, but eventually the neighbour below me came up, asking what I was running. Her ceiling was affected…the second flood since she moved in!

Despite the chaos I continued determinedly with my plan to take the ferry to West Vancouver and meet my daughter downtown. I was finally attending her choir concert after missing them for four years, since they are in the evening and I don’t drive in Vancouver, so hard to get home afterwards.

Bronwen and I were sitting in a coffee shop when a text came from my upstairs neighbour: “Are you able to phone us? I knew this was not good news. The restoration man told me that the water was not just in the walls, it was also in the ceiling.

After spending a restless night in my daughter’s warm apartment, early the next morning I called the Garden Hotel in Gibsons and although they were busy they were able to book me the same room for four nights. By now there were concerns about the possibility of water under the bedroom floor so the hotel extended my booking to six nights.

I returned home to a chaotic apartment. All my bedroom furniture etc. had been put in the living room, along with clothes from both cupboards. Noisy industrial heaters were running everywhere, so loud that the woman who’s bedroom window faced mine slept in her living room.

It was difficult to decide what to take to the hotel in my numbed state, and hard to find things amidst the random piles. My friend from downstairs helped me as I literally tossed clothes into a suitcase and filled a garbage bag with pillows and running shoes. I also needed my ukelele supplies for the next day’s singalong group. When I arrived at the hotel I realized I had gone too far when I needed the hotel wheeled cart to get to my room.

After my checkup visit to the apartment the next day I got back in my car, started the engine and was treated to a fun surprise. Don’s old Bob Dylan CD began playing, although the radio was set to come on. This was the first time it had happened in two years. Shortly after Don left us the music came on three times before I realized that I had not pressed the wrong button. There were other incidents also two years later; once someone else was driving the car and the second time we were both in the car, on our way to the hospital in North Vancouver for my wrist cast removal, (a story for another time).

The dream visitation felt to me as if Don had precognition about the flood. Our daughter and my counsellor, who is open to the idea of spirit contact, also thought so. My daughter pointed out the symbollism of water.

Positive has come out of this. I was blessed in many ways, the flood could have been much worse. Since the floor was not affected I was only out of the house for four nights. The strata and neighbours were helpful and concerned. After coming back I appreciated my home more.

Postscript: The bedroom and hall ceilings will be replaced while I’m away in the fall.