Allison DuBois - Don't Kiss Them Good-bye

Although Domini was vivacious and beautiful, she had a wounded, childlike spirit. Her childhood had been complicated and she longed to fit in and be loved. She was always the life of the party. She was diagnosed with malignant melanoma in July 2000 and died on April 2, 2001. It was hard watching my friend suffer.

Sometimes being psychic is difficult, because you know something awful is coming that you can’t stop—you can only sit and watch your prediction unfold. For a long time, I’d had a strong feeling that Domini would die of cancer around the age of thirty. When I was about nineteen, I told her that I saw her life ending in about ten years and that cancer would be the culprit. I was not the only one who sensed her early demise.

In our teens, I had a moment with Domini that shall never escape me. She and I were best friends. We went to see the movie Beaches, starring Bette Midler. As the story on the screen unfolded, Domini turned toward me. We were at the part where Bette Midler’s character was talking to her best friend (played by Barbara Hershey). Hershey was explaining to Midler that she had a heart virus and was going to die. Hershey wanted Midler to take care of her daughter after she passed away.

“Ali?” (Dom was the only one who ever called me Ali.) “If something happened to me and I died, would you do that for me? Would you take care of my child and tell her all about me?”

I tried to lighten the mood by saying, “Well, not all about you.”

But I saw that she was serious, so I reassured her. “Domini! Yes, of course I would.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes!”

Domini looked relieved. She knew that I am a stickler for keeping my word.

Our own lives paralleled the movie in many ways. Just a few years after this promise was made, Domini and her husband, Dominic, had a beautiful little daughter whom they named Marissa. But by my early twenties, I had lost contact with Dom. I was married, with my own family, and we went our separate ways.

I thought of her frequently and I wondered about her cute little redheaded girl, the baby whose diaper I had tried to change but invariably put on backwards. The toddler who received nothing but Happy Meals from me because I didn’t know what to feed a small child. I had had no experience with children, but I tried, because I wanted to help Domini take care of her little girl. I wanted to know Marissa and for her to know me.

Six years went by, and then in 2000 I decided to find her. I ran a computer search and located her through Dominic, from whom she was divorced. The urgency that I felt about finding her was no coincidence. My guides were sending me to her for a reason. I told Domini that I was interning at the county attorney’s office and she informed me that she was working down the street from me. For the next few months, Domini and I spent lots of time on the phone; it was as if six years had never passed.

She had a new husband, and they’d had a baby girl that March. I offered to bring dinner over (she lived about an hour from me); I wanted to see her new baby. Joe and I loaded up the kids and went to spend the evening with Dom and her new family.

It was the first time I had seen Marissa since she was three years old. She was the same bright-eyed girl whom I remembered taking to McDonald’s. The night seemed to pass much too quickly. We pored over scrapbooks full of old pictures and talked for hours; then it was time to go. The following week Dom’s phone was disconnected and I did not hear from her for four long months.

In the summer of 2000 she was diagnosed with cancer and contacted me to share the news. She succumbed to her illness soon after. All those years ago, Dom and I had sat together watching a movie that was a glimpse into our future. We cried together and we laughed together, and later, when it was time, we said good-bye together. I believe that Domini knew as we watched that movie that her time on earth would be short. Domini had said so many times that she always knew that she would not grow old. She was right.

I don’t like to say good-bye because it’s too final. I like to say, “Till we meet again.”

Domini spent several months fighting her cancer. I used my time with her wisely, making every moment count. Stacey, to whom I became close through Domini’s illness, helped me fulfill some of Domini’s last wishes. Closure is important for both the dying and the loved ones left behind. Don’t be emotionally paralyzed by the unfortunate circumstances. If you’re lucky enough to have this valuable time, consider yourself blessed. Ask what your loved one would like to do or see while she remains here. You have an opportunity that many people would give anything for.

Domini had always wanted a cute apartment, but cleaning and decorating weren’t her strong suit. So Stacey and I cleaned her entire apartment while she was out. We added all-new, bright, cheerful home decorations. We burned candles and incense until we lost our sense of smell. Domini loved her apartment! She reveled in the floral aroma, and she delighted in each of the new little knickknacks that she found peppered throughout her apartment.

Domini had also stated that she really wanted a lobster for dinner. She hadn’t always enjoyed the simple pleasures in life. Now she was taking the time to do just that. A lobster was easy enough to arrange. We took her out to dinner and talked about being sixteen years old.

When you’re young you can’t really fathom that your life will end. You don’t think about what you’d want for a last meal or what you’d say to those you were about to leave behind. You have all the time in the world, and you live life fearlessly. You also don’t realize that the choices you make in your teens can affect your entire life.

Over dinner, we talked with the wisdom of three women who had learned the hard way. At sixteen, we’d thought we knew it all, had done it all, and one day would have it all. Now we all agreed that being young is both a blessing and a curse. You have no cares and no worries, but you are lacking in good judgment when you need it the most. We laughed and cried about growing up and then we drove Dom back to her apartment to rest.

A few weeks before Domini’s thirty-first birthday we had a just-like-old times party in her honor so that she could spend time with old friends. There is so much value in saying what needs to be said while people you love are still here. It goes a long way. My guides gave me the date of March 22, which both Stacey and I wrote on our calendars. They said that on that day something pivotal would happen in Domini’s life. I knew that she wasn’t going to pass on that day, so I prepared myself for whatever else might happen.

March 22 came and went. Stacey and I couldn’t figure out what my guides had meant. The next day I received a call from Dominic, Domini’s ex-husband. He said that Domini had gone into convulsions the night before and had been admitted to a hospice. Up until then, she had done everything in her power to stay out of a hospice. Even though she needed care, she chose to suffer at home. She knew in her heart that once she went in she wouldn’t come out. Of course, her feeling was right.

At two o’clock on April 2, my guides told me to go see her. They even showed me the route that I would travel to see her. I had several readings booked, and as usual I was busy running around trying to take care of too many things at once. I looked at the clock at around 4:15 P.M. Every minute after that, my eyes were drawn back to the clock.

“What?” I said to my guides. “ Judge Judy is half over; so what?” I went to an appointment and came home feeling sluggish. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. I walked in through the garage door. I looked up and saw my husband walking toward me. I shook my head and said, “Domini died, didn’t she?”