I have a girlfriend who has been intently involved with my medium-y thing since the second spiritual experience. She knows I’m not bullshitting, she believes all of it, and thus…
She’s a safe bet for my first reading.
I should mention this before I keep going: even though we have this spiritual trust, I haven’t known her too long. I did NOT know the ins and outs of her family life. I knew she has a brother who has passed within the past few years, but that was about it. But… I also had a pull to her. As much as I passed this off as practice, I also had a push from beyond, if you will, that it be her I practice on.
I asked her for permission not long after the Houston medium class. I needed to put these new skills to a real world test. My Houston teacher taught us to pre-read: To get info from Spirit as a starting point before the actual sit down face to face reading. So, I sat down with my pad of paper and pen and sat in my bed propped up against my headboard. Lights were dim, doors were closed, and husband was squirreled away in the media room watching some sort of sporting event that would keep him occupied for a bit. I wrote her name down at the top of the paper and basically just put it out there, “Does anyone want to give Amy XXXXX a message?”
From there I closed my eyes and cleared my head as best I could (I think this is where the meditating practice comes in. It’s not always easy to clear your head. Basically, if my head is clear and an “idea” pops in, I have to trust that its Spirit. Not that I always do. Some ideas seem so basic and easy to come by that I have a very hard time thinking it didn’t come from me.) The first thing I hear is “Grandpa Jack” then, “tradesman” and “worked with his hands.”
(I should clarify, also, I will use “hear” often, but that not really what happens. The best way I can describe it is really just like I said, its like an idea popped into your head. There is no voice to hear, it’s just like, now you think THIS! And then THAT! I will also use “see,” much in the same way. I have never seen a spirit in the way we see things… it’s just like, I know they are there… Yeah that doesn’t help, does it….)
Next in the pre-read, I see a guy being dragged to me. Lightheartedly, though. There were men on each of his sides, their arms hooked under his armpits, and his heels were basically stopping in front of him with every step like brakes. It wasn’t in a serious way, almost like he knew he had to come, but still didn’t want to. I guess it was his way of showing his reluctance. And just like that- Amy’s brother is right in front of me. (How did I know who it was? … I don’t know. I just did. It was like he told me without telling me.) So I said/thought, “Why are you bummed?” (Yes, that’s really what came out of my head. It happened fast. I’m doing my best here.)
“I’m bummed because I could have stayed longer.”
As with all good tales, this doesn’t go smoothly. Right after that moment, my husband opened the door, startling me. I fumbled to quickly shut my notebook, embarrassed at how silly this could all seem. I still felt like this my was my dirty secret, that I wanted this to work so badly.
“What are you writing?”
“Ummm, just my stuff.”
“Then why’d you close it so fast?”
CAUGHT. “I’m just seeing if anyone has any messages for Amy.”
“Oh…. Ok. Well… don’t let me bother you.”
My meditation was done for that evening.
Now ideally, I would have set up the sit down reading with Amy for the next day, but every time we tried, something kept getting in the way. In hindsight, I think there was a fear and reluctance on both of our parts. I know for me, I was extremely worried about getting it right. What if none of this made any sense to her? Names are super specific. You could have all the other details right but if the name is wrong, the whole message can get lost to the recipient. (The medium in Houston actually had said she doesn’t like to use names because of that… which made sense at first but then also made me a bit skeptical of her. Is she not getting them? Is she making shit up? I dunno. I think it probably has to do with the way different mediums receive information. Maybe she just doesn’t get the clear names like I do.) BUT, “Grandpa Jack” basically WAS the only thing I had so far…So if that is wrong…? Not that I was worried about convincing her – I was probably more worried about convincing MYSELF. I am my own biggest skeptic (and of course more so of everyone else.) Up until now, I have made damn sure, probably to a fault, that the info I’m telling you is coming from your loved one is not coming from Holly’s own brain. Even with the Henry story, I’m convinced that encounter could have gone much more smoothly if I’d JUST GOTTEN OUT OF MY OWN WAY. Maybe he could have told her so much more?!
Sidenote: (I actually asked this question to “my peeps” this morning as I was lamenting about the fear I have about being right combined with getting enough info to be useful. I hardly finished the thought when I heard, “You don’t have to be right. You just have to LISTEN.”) Whoa. (Sidenote to sidenote: husband just asked- “who are your peeps?” That’d be spirit guides. 🙂
It was probably a week later that I saw Amy next. We were walking to our car from an event we had both attended and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I had to know, “Do you have a Grandpa Jack?”
“Yes, I do.”
This is where I went full tilt on chills. I was turning my head and rolling my shoulders and shaking my legs and hands trying to get rid of the heebie jeebies. Maybe that’s not the right word though: I’m not scared, it’s not gross, it’s just… FREAKING FREAKY. And I am STILL just… flabbergasted that this can happen. Like, this is FORREALS.
Another friend was also with us and she pipes in, “Is this that ghost stuff? I have a Grandpa Jack too!”
Amy calmly replies, “Yeah, but yours hasn’t been dead for six months.”
OK. So now that we’ve established she has a grandpa Jack, I press on and tell her, “I also heard, “tradesman,” and “worked with his hands.”
Amy answered, “Well, his job job was with IBM, but his passion was woodworking.”
Again, there goes the chicken skin! Not only was that info correct, but earlier that same day, I had been talking to another woman and had used the company IBM as an example. Right after I said it, I actually thought to myself, “why the heck did I just say IBM? So random.” I conveyed this info to Amy, and after some shrieks and “wows” I felt confident enough to proceed with my pre-read. But, I didn’t tell her about the brother being dragged in just yet…
A few days later, when no one was home, I sat down again with my notebook. I didn’t have much to go on, so I was going to give this pre-reading another go. I hardly even was able to close my eyes and the same brother who was drug in on his heels before was now rushing to me in excitement. He was eager and ready to talk!
“God I love her! She kind, generous, knowledgable, and she’s my savior!”
I tried to go through my list of questions I’d been taught, “What do you look like?” He told me he had been “chunky.” I asked if he had the same hair color as his sister and he replied, “well kind of, but not like hers! She dyes it!”
He mentioned a few other small things, one being that he had worked with his dad, but then gave me the name “Scott.” I wrote it down, fingers crossed this was the brother’s name. I was certain she had mentioned her brother’s name to me in the past but I couldn’t remember… was it Scott? Again, names are SO DANG SPECIFIC.
There were a few more basic things, but all very random. The information was just short snippets. I basically ended up with whole bunch of (seemingly) random bits that I had no idea how or even if they tied together. And there certainly wasn’t a message that I could tell. When the brother stopped giving info, I had a faint energy of a grandmother come in -who only mentioned jewelry/a ring- and then I made a call out to Grandpa once more, “Grandpa Jack, you there?”
“I’m here!” he waved from a far corner, hanging out in a chair. “I had to go, but the kids are fine and they know where to find me.”
(Full disclosure: It was another week (maybe two?) before Amy and I met up for the sit down reading part. Prior to that, I couldn’t get the “Scott” portion of the info out of my head. Was that her brother’s name? It was killing me. I went in to Facebook and scrolled through her pictures from years ago, hoping to find out for sure. I didn’t take long to find him, but no… his name was not Scott. UGH. I’M A FAILURE.
I meet up with Amy a few days later, armed with my notepad and LOTS of nerves. I just wanted this to go right, for her AND me. Will I be able to “communicate” with Spirit once I’m sitting in front of her? If I blow this reading, then what? Am I not cut out for this? Do I have to wait for them to come to me again in some crazy way that I’m not prepared for? What if it never happens again?
We sit at a table in the way way back of a Mexican restaurant. We could get away from the people, but not from the constant mariachi music blowing from the speakers. Oh well, this will have to do. There will always be some sort of distraction, I guess. Lets just see what happens.
I start off by reading my notes. I told her about her brother being reluctant at first, but then how he had such enthusiasm to talk to me the next time. She laughed a knowing laugh and told me that when her brother was alive he was the most anti-medium person you’d ever meet. He thought it was a one way ticket to bad bad things and wanted nothing to do with it. She thought him being dragged in was hilarious, because it made total sense.
I told her how he said he was bummed because he “could’ve stayed longer.” I read the part to her about her being generous, and knowledgable, and his saviour. I told her how he described himself as chunky, and that he had worked with his dad. She confirmed it was all true, even that her brother had owned a business with her dad in the past.
But then we came to the name Scott. I actually put my hand over it on my notes so she couldn’t see it, while confessing that I had already looked on Facebook to check if what I had written was her brother’s name. Knowing I was moments away from a metaphoric punch in the gut, I move my hand and say, “So… who is Scott then?”
Amy’s eyes got wide and she exclaimed, “Scott is my nephew!”
Amy then told me, “but he’s my other brother’s son. I wonder why he would bring him up?” I was excited that I wasn’t going crazy, but also kind of shrugged my shoulders because I hadn’t received any other info than the name… so I moved on. I took her through the rest of my notes, about Grandpa Jack, and the grandmother with the jewelry. Amy confirmed that her daughter wears Amy’s deceased grandmother’s ring every single day.
Without anything else written down, we were both a little perplexed as to what to make of all of this. Like i said before, it was just bits of info, but what are we supposed to do with it? Like the outline of a play that you haven’t fully written yet. The thing she was stuck on was, “Why would he mention Scott?” The only answer I had for her was that I could try to ask…
So, Mariachi music going strong, waiters bustling around me, I look down, close my eyes and ask in my head, “Why did you tell me Scott?” IMMEDIATELY I hear, “Scott is going to have some trouble and Im going to be the one to help him I’m going to be the one in his ear.”
Whoa. Not only did the ghost just answer my question, but he just told me some seriously deep shit. Do I tell her this? Is her nephew two years old and now she’s going to be afraid for him the rest of his days? Then I remember that I’ve read in multiple places, that Spirit won’t tell you things they don’t want repeated. They know what info their loved ones can handle.
So I tell her exactly what I heard.
Amy’s face turned into a satisfied frown as she nodded. I sat there for a moment very confused but finally ask, “Is Scott in trouble?”
“Scott is in JAIL.”
Moments like this is why I use emojis so often in my texting. The face with the mouth straight and eyes WIDE is exactly how I looked. Disbelief. WOW. She then started explaining the situation somewhat, but I kept hearing her brother, though, even as she spoke. It was like he couldn’t say it enough. “I have a team of people over here working in this. So many people. Uncles you’ve never even HEARD of.”
Amy was taking it all in as I instantly felt the need to go back over my notes to her one more time. I was quickly rereading them to her, “he says you were generous, knowledgable and his savior…” and then the brother words flowed right out of my mouth as I put my pencil down next to the word ‘savior’ and drew a hard line directly to where I had written ‘Scott’ and circled his name while saying, “BUT YOU ARE NOT HIS.”
THIS was the message. THIS was why we were there that day. Amy needed to stop worrying about saving Scott. Her brother was on it.
Apparently, Scott’s father (Amy’s living brother) had had enough of his sons trouble making and had washed his hands clean of the situation out of desperation. It had fallen on Amy and her other brother to try to help Scott get back on track after that. Now that the other brother was gone, Amy was feeling hopeless and wasn’t sure how to handle it anymore. All of a sudden I knew what he meant by “I could have stayed longer.” As soon as I thought this, he affirmed it and added, “There’s more I could have done” and “strange turn of events.”
As I told this to Amy, again she nodded. This all made sense to her. They had, as siblings, made big plans. Their mother had been very ill, and so they were arranging to take their father traveling after her impending death. It was a ‘strange turn of events’ when all of a sudden her father passed before her mother, and then soon after, her brother unexpectedly, too. And now Scott in jail. Amy knew exactly what he meant with that message. To her it was an understatement.
It took me this particular reading experience to realize that I had started out with this set of notes that at first glance meant nothing. (Hence, the nerves) And only with her input (along with Spirit’s ) were we able to take it further. It showed me that even if to me it looks like I don’t have a lot, everything I need to get the message across is right there. Although I still wonder… like… why didn’t Grandpa Jack just say, “I loved woodworking?” Why’d he have to give me the whole roundabout “tradesman who worked with his hands” deal? ha! But again, I need to learn to set aside my fears and… trust it. Or as spirit said, “Just LISTEN.”
*I would normally end this here- but I have to finish up with Grandpa Jack. This guy was a character. I’ve had the pleasure of channeling a couple of spirits where you get a good idea of exactly what their personality was like, and he was full of it. Before we ended our reading, I asked Amy about him. I told her I could tell he was a spitfire and she verified that absolutely he was. She actually was starting to tell me about the accident he’d had, when I hear him say ,”It was STUPID.” Well, Amy confirmed, it was indeed stupid. He had been trying to kill a bug and fell and broke his hip. (He ended up in the hospital where he deteriorated quickly.) I could see Grandpa Jack still acting defiantly and rolling his eyes as she told me the rest of his story, and we ended with a chuckle and a hug.