From Gloria:

Back in our college days in Southern California, my husband and I became very close friends with a young man of Greek descent, by the name of Chris . Chris was a very intelligent young man, and sweet and thoughtful as could be. He was a part of our family, and over the years we became a part of his.

In 1974 my husband had a business opportunity which caused us to relocate far from California, and we had to leave our beloved Chris behind. Several months after we moved, we received news from Chris's family that he had been killed in a car accident. My husband headed back to California, and I remained home with our two sons. During my husbands absence , I began having troubling dreams. In the first series, I found myself sitting at our poker table in our apartment in California, in student housing, with my husband and our friend Dave, playing poker. The front door opens and in walks Chris. Immediately, the three of us knew that this wasn't right, that Chris wasn't with us any longer. It seemed as if everyone was afraid to speak and we just kept looking from one another, to Chris. I remember in my mind thinking to my husband and Dave..."Tell him! You've got to tell him." But none of us could. I had this dream three nights.

The next dream I had for three nights as well. In this dream, my husband dropped me off at an old fashioned ice cream parlor , with the big black and white tiles, and the round tables with chairs. I would walk up to a gleaming chrome counter and, as the gentleman in the all white suite with the cocky little white "ice cream man" hat took my order, I'd look around, and there at a table would be sitting my friend Chris.

He was always alone, and I would walk over to him, in my heart knowing that he was dead,and feeling like I needed to tell him so,instead I'd smile and place my hand on his shoulder and say "Chris?! What are you doing here?" And he would reply, without looking up, "Oh, hi Rat Fink (his pet name for me)! I'm waiting."

I would ask what for, and he would say he wasn't sure. I would ask if I could wait with him and he'd always shake his head from side to side and still looking down at the table, say "No, I don't think you can."

The dreams happened night after night until finally I was in more emotional pain than I thought I could bear. In desperation, I called the local Greek Orthodox church to speak with a priest. I told him he would probably think I was crazy, and began telling him the dreams, sobbing all the while. He listened patiently, and when I finished, he heaved a heavy sigh, and said, "Gloria. I certainly don't think you are crazy. In fact we believe that sometimes when a person dies suddenly, they can become trapped between this life and the next, and this is what I believe has happened to your friend Chris."

He suggested that every night before falling asleep, I pray with all of my heart for a guide spirit to come for Chris. He explained that only a guide spirit could help a spirit in Chris's situation, "cross over." But that this dream probably meant that one needed to be summoned on Chris's behalf. He said that he would have a group at his church every evening do like wise. That night, and for the next three nights, at bedtime, I prayed as I never have before, asking GOD to send a guide spirit for Chris.

The first two nights were dreamless - a much needed reprieve from the previous six, and on the third night, I fell into the ice cream parlor dream once again. As always, I was aware that I'd done all of this before. I still felt as if I had to be the one to tell Chris that he was dead, but knew in my heart that I couldn't.

This time, after placing my order, I turned to find Chris, and there was a beautiful person with a head full of blond ringlets sitting at the table with him! I still walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder but now said, "Hi Chris! Are you still waiting?"

He looked up into my face with that most precious smile that I miss even unto this day, and said "No! No, I don't have to wait any longer!"

I have never had the dreams again, and I know, and the Greek Orthodox priest agreed when I called him the next morning, that Chris had been guided home.