It was 2006. My mother had died, wishing for me to write her story, so other young women could take strength from my mother's challenges. And while I knew I could tell her story, I also knew I needed an editor - one who would be accepting of my metaphysical life and views. I didn't know anyone like this, but I had a dream. I dreamed about a lady with long full hair walking towards me. In the dream, I knew she was an editor and that she would be able to help me. When I awoke, I also knew I would be meeting this person. Several months passed. I was flying to Kauai to visit my daughter; the direct flight commencing in Phoenix. I boarded, and my seat was the last row of the cabin, at the