I was three years old and my mother was gone to Washington. My father was in St. Paul and my aunt watched me until my father came home. My mother would be home two days after my father so I was pleased to have both parents together again. (Although they aren't divorced). My father had just gotten home and said he wanted to rest. He rested and woke up several hours later with a horrible dream that my mother had died in a horrible plane crash. He had it the night after also. At the time my mother was going to be departing, my father called my mom and told her not to get on the plane. She didn't, of course. 3 hours later, on the plane that my mom was suppose to be on, the plane fell apart in the sky, almost by the runway that they were suppose to land on. I'm 22 now and now know that if it weren't for my father, my mom wouldn't be living a full life at the age of 52.
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