Aaaaah, OK - that explains it
When I married my late husband, he already owned a home out in the boondocks in the middle of a farm. I had always lived in town.
After I moved in, I said something about the people across the "street". He cracked up and told me they lived across the "road". He told me there were no streets in the country.
When he died, several strange things happened. We were in the process of replacing a split rail fence with a new type of wooden fence and he was taking the old one down. I came home from work and found him in his pickup in the backyard. He died from a massive heart attack at 49.
His watch stopped at the time he died. A clock I gave him in the shape of a chicken (long story, we had chickenhouses) stopped at the same time. The cell phone he carried 24/7 because of his job died.
The DOT (where he worked) brought his work pickup to the funeral and the graveside service. It was nearly new and had never given any problems. After the graveside service, it wouldn't crank and had to be towed back to his office.
Several days after his death, I dreamed that he was in our bedroom, but he looked like he did when we started dating. He smiled and told me he loved me. I was very angry with him and told him he couldn't do this to me, we were supposed to grow old together and sit out on the porch in rocking chairs and travel. He told me he was sorry, he didn't have a choice. He hugged me, kissed me and told me that he was fine, but he had to go. When I woke up, I still felt his kiss on my lips.
That was the beginning of many "dreams" in which Mark returned to me to comfort me.
He died 10/24/05 at 49. I was 48 at the time.