‘A strong feeling hit me. I’d be coming back to the cemetery very soon, and it was going to be for someone close to me.’: Woman loses husband in car accident after receiving ‘premonitions’

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“Premonitions can be as subtle as a gnawing feeling or can be an overwhelming jolt. That feeling something is going to happen. Most of us have experienced premonitions to one degree or another. When a premonition is so strong, the one experiencing it has little doubt it is going to happen. Listening and trusting your gut instinct. Premonitions are your intuition. Love and spirituality in the highest form. There is awakened awareness of something greater.

The first premonition – it came on the day I married him. Something deep inside of me spoke to me, the man standing before me’s life was going to be short. I shrugged off this unsettling feeling. As he stood before me, his green eyes spoke softly into my soul and love radiated off of him. It was our wedding day. I was head over heels in love. He was full of love, charismatic, funny, handsome, kind, caring, daring, and bold. I was utterly swept away.

Courtesy of Tracy Peart

We began to build our life, but that thought had always stayed with me through the years. I never spoke about it to anyone before. Secretly, it was my worst fear. Premonitions open us up to a greater world and each other. His death was a shock to me, but I knew beforehand his death was going to happen. I wish I would have listened. Of course, all of us will depart this life.

May 16, 2011, I received an envelope in the mail. It wasn’t just any gift, this particular gift had been date stamped September 4, 2003. Mailed eight years prior. It came with a note from the post office that it got stuck in a machine. The envelope, damaged, apparently had been lost in the mail. It wasn’t until the post office took the machine apart that they found it.

The envelope contained a locket, the sender was my Aunt Karen, my dad’s twin sister who passed away February 5, 2005. I was flabbergasted and so surprised to get this special locket, it had belonged to my grandma. She died when I was little and we had a special bond of love between us. The gift was like receiving a gift of love from heaven, tied from the past. I knew it was special but didn’t realize the magnitude of its importance until just days later. The locket would become a lifeline.

Courtesy of Tracy Peart

The second premonition – It came while at church. We were late arriving. The morning was busy. I was distracted trying to get my kids to sit quietly. Everyone around me was singing. I heard a voice say to me, ‘You will not have your husband for very much longer.’ The voice was soft, but strong and clear. It was extremely direct, like a matter-of-fact. The voice was not my own, just stating facts. It jolted me from being distracted.

I turned to look in all directions and everyone around me was singing, in their own little world. I looked at my family, our children sat between us. Sean looked at me, winked and wiggled his eyebrows. His eyes sparkled. I smiled at him and dismissed what I had just heard. I tried to rationalize the voice. He’s so young and healthy. I silently wondered if I was going crazy hearing things. My heart knew, but my mind could not comprehend my rational brain.

The third premonition – May 29, 2011. Our family made plans to leave town to go motorcycle riding and camping for memorial weekend. I purchased a pinwheel, little U.S. flag, and some yellow mums while at the store. After putting my groceries away, I began my drive to the cemetery to place them on Glenn’s grave, Sean’s dad ‘Shorty,’ before we left town.

On my drive to the cemetery, I saw a little elderly man pushing his lawnmower while also toting his oxygen tank with him. It was a hot day. I turned my car around and told the man I was going to mow his lawn. He was sweating profusely from the heat and the exertion of pushing the lawnmower; he struggled to breathe. He had to be in his 80’s.

He looked at me, took my hand, and said, ‘Thank you, but my grandson is in the backyard getting ready to mow my lawn.’ I waited until his grandson appeared. I hugged him, handed him my business card, and said, ‘I will mow your lawn for you any time. Call me. You shouldn’t be out in the hot sun pulling your oxygen tank and pushing a lawnmower.’ He laughed and responded, ‘In my younger years, I would never have let a woman mow my yard.’

‘Well, I’m the lawn fairy,’ I replied and winked at him. We both laughed. He was wearing a WWII hat with pins. We visited and he shared with me his experiences of going to war and being a veteran. It reminded me so much of Sean’s dad, Glenn, who I was on my way to pay my respects to. After the brief visit, I hugged the old man again and drove off.

Courtesy of Tracy Peart

At the cemetery, I parked my car and stepped out. It was a beautiful day with a warm breeze. I slowly walked over to where my old friend had been laid to rest. I knelt on the soft grass and began to clean off his stone. I placed the yellow mums, bright pinwheels, and the American flag I had purchased for him on his grave.

As I arranged these small gifts of love and remembrance, a very strong feeling hit me with force, over my heart; I was going to be coming back to the cemetery very soon and it was going to be for someone close to me. It was a very distinct impression–a feeling I will never forget.

This feeling caught me off guard at first; it was not scary, but it was very strong and it penetrated my heart. It was a statement of fact, a warning to prepare myself. My mind began to race. Who? I lingered in the cemetery and looked up at the bright blue sky. I breathed a silent prayer that God would be near me and would help me.

That night, I told Sean about my experience. He told me he had had a similar feeling. We both wondered if it was his mother who was going to die. She was getting older and in poor health. We hugged and kissed each other, then fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Courtesy of Tracy Peart

Sometimes the only way we can connect the dots is by looking back, not forward. Premonitions are love connections by the lens through which we can take a glimpse of our connections, not only to one another, but to the divine and infinite.

On May 31, 2011, Sean came home from work. He walked in the door, and I gave him a big hug and kiss, ‘I’m so glad to see you!’ I told him food was on the stove, Kaden’s baseball game was soon, and I was going to run over to the neighbor’s house quickly.

As I put on my shoes, I had an overwhelming impression I shouldn’t go. As I laced my shoes, the feeling grew stronger and stronger. I needed to stay. I pushed the thought away. I rationalized, I will only be gone a few minutes.

I walked to my neighbor’s house. After about five minutes, the strangest sensation gripped my body. It felt like there was a magnet in my stomach pulling me towards home. I got the distinct impression to leave immediately. Then a voice said, ‘Go home now!’ I looked around the room. I bolted for the door. I felt like I needed to hurry; a sense of urgency building inside of me. ‘Go, now!’

I walked briskly home, wondering what in the heck was wrong. The intensity of the feeling grew the closer I got to my home. I walked in the front door and the room started to spin. A dark cloud descended over me. What was wrong?

I couldn’t shake the bizarre feeling. Something was wrong. I wandered around the house checking on things. Was the gas stove still on? Where were all of my children? Was Sean’s mom Lucy okay? I was able to account for all of my kids; they were outside playing.

The house was eerily quiet. I saw the dust floating in the air as the sunlight came through the window. A strange electric sensation came over me. I felt sick. 9:30 p.m. Where in the heck was Sean? Someone knocked on the door. One of my children answered the door. ‘Mom, there are two men at the door. They want to speak with you.’

I didn’t recognize either of the men. They were wearing khaki pants and blue collared shirts. They looked like they were from a country club. ‘Can I help you?’ I asked. They asked me to come outside so we could talk. I thought that was odd. ‘Why?’ I said, feeling defensive. Something was wrong. Electricity ran through my body.

The look on their faces was weird. One man kept looking behind me–my kids had their noses pressed up against the window. ‘Are you Steven’s wife?’ one of the men asked. I looked at him funny and said, ‘He doesn’t go by that name. He goes by his middle name, Sean. Can I help you with something? What is this about?’

‘Please come outside,’ they said. I was reluctant. I felt uneasy, but I decided to step outside and shut the door behind me. The air was still warm and I could feel a gentle breeze on my skin. Both men stepped off the porch to give me some room. ‘We are from the American Fork Police Department.’ I could tell from the looks on their faces, something was amiss. They didn’t look like police officers, I thought to myself. My body was on edge.

I wrapped my arms around myself and almost held my breath. ‘Ok,’ I said, ‘What is this about? Is something wrong?’ I was at the mercy of the moment, held captive by the foreboding feelings of the day and these two men. A sick feeling began to vibrate throughout my entire body. It was as if each cell was acknowledging the arrival of my biggest fear, one… by… one.

Courtesy of Tracy Peart

The shorter man looked down at his feet and then back behind me. It seemed he was looking at my children. I could hear them squealing and laughing behind me through the closed door. The man glanced back at me, his face fell. He swallowed hard, as if something was caught in his throat, and looked back at me.

The taller man took charge. I could tell this was ‘official’ police business. I looked these men over again and had a strong desire to bolt. Every instinct was on high alert. I asked myself, why were these men here so late? Their bodies were rigid, uncomfortable and their faces betrayed no emotion. ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked.

‘There’s been an accident tonight.’ The small man’s face was pale as if all the color had drained out of it. ‘What is wrong?’ I asked. ‘Is he at the hospital? Is he hurt?’ An accident . . . Oh my god, Sean–my mind shifted into overdrive. The men looked at each other and then back at me. ‘No, ma’am. Your husband’s been killed in an automobile accident tonight.’

NOOOOOOOOO! Please God, NOOOOOOO! I asked them to take me to him. I asked to go see him. The shorter officer looked at his partner. His head dropped and he just started shaking his head. The taller man reached into his pocket and pulled out Sean’s driver’s license and handed it to me. Proof, finally, proof of what they were saying. Oh, dear, God! Seeing Sean’s license smacked me awake, and I finally allowed my brain to process what these men had been saying.

Holding Sean’s license in my hand, I heard a voice tell me, ‘Tracy, they are telling you the truth.’ My heart shattered into a million pieces. My world was unbelievably altered. I couldn’t breathe. God and Sean were trying to tell me to listen. These men were telling the truth. Acceptance began to dawn in my heart. I didn’t want it to be true, but it was. I collapsed on the porch. I started to cry.

My sweetheart was gone. NO, NO, NO! Please God, NO! At that moment, I couldn’t think, breathe, or function at all. I was completely shattered. I wanted to die. ‘NO, my baby, please come back!’ The officers looked at me with sympathy. They kept repeating how sorry they were. I looked at them with shock and horror as if they had just handed me poison to drink.

My body and spirit came undone. Everything played out in slow motion. It was as if someone had shoved me out of the window of a high rise building, and I was falling. My world turned off its axis. Instantly, my world had changed. Gone. Forever.

I sat sobbing on the porch. My insides ripped apart. The pain was indescribable. Sadness and pain washed over me, a sadness I have no words to describe. Emotions of every kind racked my body, my soul. Consumed with grief, I fell into blackness, and yet I was motionless. At one point during this surreal moment, I left my body and watched myself sitting on the porch, painfully aware of the destruction that raged inside my chest.

I was snapped back into my body when the officer said gently, ‘Breathe.’ Tears flowed freely. I couldn’t speak. I literally could not form any words in my mind, let alone utter them. Please, please let this be a bad dream. I could feel a light breeze on my face. I was aware that the world still existed outside of my pain, but I was somehow not a part of the world at that moment. My mind, body, soul, and heart were all in separate pieces. I collapsed into nothingness.

Courtesy of Tracy Peart

Sean’s beautiful light was extinguished in one fiery second of screeching tires and crunching metal. His light, my light, was taken from this world. My soul was in anguish. Broken. Devastated. Scared. Lost. Alone. Oh, God, please take me instead, I thought.

Death had stolen my sweetheart. Death doesn’t care if a person is loved and cherished. It doesn’t care if you are young or old. Death doesn’t care if you have plans for the future. Death respects no one. It comes suddenly and devastates completely.

Nothing can prepare you for when death comes to your door. Two husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, lost their lives in that accident. Sean’s friend, Jared, had died too. Two widows began their journey alone, piecing back their lives. Holding their families together. How does one recover from such an event? I spent years in a sad, empty, dark hole. It wasn’t until love began to open my heart again, like winter coming to an end, it began to unthaw and love’s light began to enter my heart again.

Stages of grief are shock, numbness, denial, anger, fear, searching, disorganization, panic, guilt, loneliness, isolation, depression, sadness, adjustment, hope, forgiveness, acceptance, love, and peace. I didn’t understand then why God did what he did. I would ask, please God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change. Before I could release the weight of my pain and sadness, first I had to honor its existence.

In the days after Sean’s death, I was told, ‘First you’ll hurt, then you’ll heal, and then you’ll help.’ After letting it go and turning it over to God, I knew it was time. Just like premonitions, I had to trust my heart, higher self, and knowledge it was TIME.

I prayed for guidance I would be able to do something beautiful for others. I turned my pain into purpose. A beautiful life begins with a beautiful mind. We are the creators of our own life, holding the pen. We get to choose daily how we want our story to go. Fear is your invite for growth.

Out of darkness into the light. Healing began through love. After his death, our neighbors and Boy Scouts, put up our Christmas lights that first Christmas. I sat in the window and watched, silent tears ran down my face, of thanks and gratitude.

Others mowed our lawn, brought meals, cleaned, and did kind acts of service for our family. The random acts of kindness touched my heart deeply, it spoke volumes without words. Feelings of love, tenderness, kindness, and compassion.

My family was the recipient of an outpouring of love. In the mess, I found my message and the SeanPeartFoundation.Org was born. The magic, mess, message, why, and purpose reborn again. The love ripple project, service for single mothers, children, and widows. The ones who feel left behind or forgotten about. When my heart began to feel the love, I could no longer feel the pain I was blinded by.

Healing began when I was able to focus on others, getting outside of myself, love, service, and meeting someone else’s needs. I finally got it. The layers slowly peeled back, masks we wear to hide our pain now evaporated. I have learned we often fool ourselves into thinking we can control everything when in reality, we control very little.

Premonitions – They have taught me it’s important to block out the noise, to listen to the quiet, listen to my intuition, my heart, mind, and soul. So I can be more in tune with who I am, where I am going, and what I should be doing. Premonitions are gentle nudges from our soul, or perhaps, they are connections to the divine and infinite by learning to trust that still, small, voice. Premonitions are real.

The lost locket, premonitions remind me of spiritual connections to the forces in our lives if we will take the time to listen. The seen and unseen that walk beside us every day, only requires that you believe. Love is what matters.

Take a moment to marvel at life. Any grief that softened you, any heartache that wisened you, and any suffering that strengthened you. Despite everything we still grow. Move towards what scares you, face your fears. Have courage and faith. Clarity is the halfway point between your greatest hope and your deepest fear.

At the end of life, what really matters is not what we bought but what we built; not what we got but what we shared; not our competence but our character; and not our success, but our significance. Live a life that matters. Live a life of love.”

This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Tracy Peart. You can follow her journey on her blog. Do you have a similar experience? We’d like to hear your important journey. Submit your own story here. Be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.

Read more from Tracy here: 

‘I’ve been saving this money. I heard your husband died. I want you to have it because I still have my dad. Merry Christmas.’ It was a child’s handwriting.’: Widow receives unexpected act of kindness, now wants to pay it forward

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