Subtle Shmuttle- part one

Subtle Shmuttle- part one

I probably overuse the word “subtle“ in a lot of my storytelling. “Spirit is subtle”… “I can’t believe how subtle the signs are!“ I know, I know – you get it already!

But, there have been a few times lately where it hasn’t been so subtle – and those are the really cool connections. Those are the ones where there is absolutely no question that what’s happening is really happening, and there’s also a lot less internal wishy-washiness about telling the recipient when you know how hard their loved ones must’ve worked to get through.

I haven’t asked permission from this next gentleman to tell his not-so-subtle story, so I will keep names and places very general, but this is how it went down:

I was with my family and we were taking a tour of our friend, “Tim’s” workplace. He is overseeing the renovation of an old building in California. We said our hellos outside on the grounds, and then stepped into the front door of the project, which was very much under construction; scaffolding lined some of the walls, ladders laid on the floor, and various workers milled about. During the tour Tim gave us, he was highlighting all sorts of stuff… NONE of which I heard. Why? Because as soon as we walked in the building, my brain started doing that buzzy spinny thing again. It’s apparently spirit’s version of, “Hey look at me!!”

The buzzing had just started when I looked at Tim and simultaneously heard, “grandpa.”

Oh…… NO. Here we go.

So at this moment, my brain is not only going haywire with spirit energy, but also trying to start processing how I will (or WON’T) possibly tell Tim what I’ve heard. Am I supposed to repeat just that to him? “Hey your grandpa is here!” What if nothing else follows? Then we’d all look around at each other, my kids doing that wide darting eyed silent code for “dude. Mom is WEIRD” and my husband looking at his friend like, “oh I’m so sorry about her.”

But hallelujah something DID follow. As I walked, I heard: “Dad’s Dad.” “Namesake.”

Hey! Now we are getting somewhere!

The tour probably lasted anther 15-20 minutes with no more outright information- just me trying to physically shake off the “ooglies”- and boy were they THICK. It’s SUCH an odd feeling. It’s kind of like…. a light electrocution mixed with confusion. You can’t get everything to stop, I dunno… moving. Just continuous waves of energy. It doesn’t hurt- it’s just kind of annoying when you’re trying to think, listen, be normal, and NOT give off “ghosts are all over me” vibes. I was literally in the back of the family tour pack- walking and throwing my hands trying to flick it off, and hoping no one would notice my new tick. (That didn’t work.) I knew then that the only way to shake this was to just come clean with Tim, however looney it sounded.

Tim finally walked us out- I waited for my family to each say their goodbyes and get in the car before I made my move. My hands were vigorously shaking, and I started to tear up. (This stuff gets freakily emotional- and you don’t always know why,)

“Soooo, you know that thing I do?” (This is my innovative go-to line apparently..)


“You know… the medium thing….” (I was sure we must have discussed this over a bottle of wine when he visited the prior year..)

“…no…but my wife is really into that stuff…”

Sigh. “Well when I walked in I got some serious vibes and heard ‘Grandpa’ and then, ‘Dads dad’ and ‘namesake.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

“Oh lots of stuff happens here!” Tim explained, glossing over my specifics. “I hear things all the time…” He said he hears footsteps and voices as clear as yours and mine saying, “hello?” as if they are looking for someone in the building. He told me two men ran into his office one day, scared to bits because “something was chasing them.”

Well, Ok… that’s neato and all, but… “this is for YOU. YOUR grandpa.”

Tim eyes went wide.

“Grandpa. Dad’s dad. Namesake.”

The wheels were obviously turning in Tim’s head but it was like he couldn’t even comprehend what I was saying now that this was so personal. He started talking about his Dad, thinking it must be him when I interrupted, “What was your grandpa’s name?”

“Well, my DAD’S name was Bill…”


“Timothy,” Tim casually stated.

I looked at Tim with my hands in the air as if to convey, “well duh!” and just said, “namesake!”

Tim was fairly speechless. It was like he knew there were ghosts there, but he never considered they were HIS ghosts. But now Tim was curious, like, “ok grandpa is here….. and? Why?”

Well actually, I had already asked! “He just wants you to know he sees what you are doing and loves watching you at work and he’s proud of you!”

And that is exactly what happened. At some point during the tour (that I’ll have to take again someday,) I did ask Grandpa, “so what do you want me to tell him?” and I didn’t hear anything like a sentence- nothing audible. It was just a feeling and the knowledge of the late, great, Timothy, hanging out and proudly watching his successful namesake at work.

Meditation, Puzzles, and an Orange Scarf

It’s been a while, and boy! Do I have a lots of gaps to fill in!  My adventures have taken me to a one day medium class in Houston, I did some automatic writing, and I’ve had some contacts with Spirit since the last update, so I’ve got a few little stories to tell. No one thing as earth-shaking as what started this whole journey, which is probably why I haven’t felt compelled to share just yet.  Things have changed; Spirit no longer breaks down my proverbial brain door to get my attention. I’m having to learn to listen (but not ALWAYS because then I’m “like an FM antenna that only picks up static” as they put it. Sigh- I’ve got a long way to go.) BUT- today was different. I heard from Spirit, and it was amazing, but not profound, and it was extremely satisfying because of that. It was the first time I was able to deliver a message without becoming too emotionally involved, or stressing out about the information being wrong. It was like I’m finally finding my footing.  So,  I’m gonna begin with today (although I’m committing myself to telling my other stories next! They are pretty neat. )

Last week, a friend of mine, Samantha, had a chair she was giving away. I was the first on Facebook to claim it (Yay!) and today was the day I was to go pick it up from her house. Since I had quite a bit of time to spare before I was headed over,  I decided to sit down for some much needed meditation.

(Real quick, I still haven’t been meditating quite like I should. Lots of silly excuses that I’m REALLY trying to stop using, especially since pretty much EVERY time I meditate, something cool happens. Again, more about this in the next post…)

I hadn’t been meditating for too long when I have a vision of a woman, with this luxurious flowing hair, quickly running/floating over to another woman and affectionately tying an orange scarf with silver stars around her neck. Then, as quickly as she came in, she went out.  It was like a playful game of duck-duck goose but instead of tapping someones head, you put a scarf on them.  Does that help the visual? :/   It was then that I had the knowledge that the woman receiving the scarf was my friend, Samantha.

(I need to add here that while I am friendly with Samantha, I do not know her very well. I want to clarify this because there’s that whole “reading for your friends and family” thing. If you know too much about them, then it’s really hard to know whether the info you are receiving is actually from Spirit or not. That, of course, applies to both the medium AND the recipient of the info.   Messages from spirit are so much like our own thoughts that sometimes its very hard to discern between the two- so if it’s information that you already know- how could you be sure it wasn’t coming from within rather than an external source? Now apply that to the recipient; Even if the medium was sure the info was coming from Spirit- the recipient is much more likely to be skeptical if it’s something the medium (might have) already known.)

So, apparently Spirit was aware I would be heading to Samantha’s house soon, aaaand… I realized, “someone wants to say hi.” 🙂 Alrighty then!  I refocus, and now see a quick vision of a farmhouse. Then… a gun.  WHOA. It’s not the full gun, though; it’s like a closeup of where someone is loading it and cocking it.    I watched this for a couple of seconds and wondered why this person would be showing me this. And then I get a VERY quick vision of a horse. And THEN this flowing hair woman flies past me at top speed, diagonally from deep left and then past my right shoulder- and her mouth is open wide in terror, as if she is running away from something terrible.

Here’s where the puzzle stuff comes in. I know I’ve talked about this in past blog posts, but just to reiterate the initial messages from Spirit are usually like a skeletal outline and you then need to piece it together.  And THAT usually happens when you can give the info to the recipient and they can confirm if it’s correct. (Hopefully, anyway 🙂 Part of the job as a medium, though, is to try to interpret messages FOR the recipient.  For example, let’s say the medium gets a symbol of a red rose. Well, a red rose to that particular medium might mean, “being in love.” So while the medium SEES a red rose, the message to the recipient might just be about love, never mentioning the red rose.   So now that we’ve clarified that….back to the gun. I tried to put two and two together and assumed this woman had shot her horse and was really sad about it.  Uhhh, that makes sense, right?

After my amazing medium detective work, I asked this spirit, whomever it was, how they were related to Samantha.  “Cousin” popped into my head after a few seconds… but it was… I don’t know… faint? I wasn’t sure if I was making things up. As if to answer my doubt, “cousin” is repeated again, but then I hear, unmistakably, “UNCLE. AFFAIR.”

Well OK then.

3:45 rolled around and I headed to Samantha’s house.  I couldn’t remember if her and I had discussed this whole medium thing before, so after the initial “hellos” I said, “So I did some meditating today… we’ve talked about my thing I’ve got going on, right?”

“… what thing?” Samantha asks.

“the ghost thing,” I reply.

“Oh yes!”

“Whew! OK. Well, as I was meditating today, I saw a woman with long, flowy, beautiful hair run up to you and put a beautiful orange scarf around your neck.”

Samantha got still and her eyes opened wide. “She wasnt trying to strangle me was she?!”

“No no no!”  ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION! Ha! I went on and told her exactly what I had seen, in the exact order, even including the part about her long-haired friend shooting the horse. (Oh boy.)

I got to the part about “cousin. UNCLE. AFFAIR.”  I explained that I wasn’t sure how the “cousin” fit in (or IF it fit in) because it wasn’t as strong as “UNCLE/AFFAIR.” That’s when she informed me that she only had one uncle. It was her mother’s brother. He  died of a heart attack 36 years ago. He was only 45. FORTY FIVE.  She then added that he DID cheat on his wife, and then mentioned that her mother had always thought the heart attack was a “broken heart” that the uncle succumbed to after his wronged wife left him. WOW!

At this point I was getting very confused as to whom the messages were coming from. I had just assumed it was the long- flowy-haired woman I saw in the first vision. I asked her who that might be. Samantha then mentioned that her cousin, THE UNCLE’S SON, committed suicide three years ago, and that he left a wife and two children behind. “Cousin! That’s the cousin!” Her jaw dropped a bit- that obviously hadn’t clicked with her yet, and I could tell this was coming together more and more. The wife, she continued, had “Vidal Sassoon” hair.  I confidently told her, “if that is the ONE thing you think about when you think of her- and that is the ONLY thing she showed me, that HAS to be her.”  Then it all made sense, she was the one placing the scarf around Samantha’s neck- but she wasn’t the one necessarily loading the gun.  It would make absolute sense that she was then running away from that in terror.  But… the horse? Obviously, I put that puzzle together a little wonky. Did I add that piece myself? We may never know. (It was a good guess, I thought!)

So, long-hair-flowy-girl is still alive. Cousin and Uncle are not. Now that I write that down, I’m still not sure why we never considered Uncle to be the spirit communicating with me. Maybe it was just intuition, but our attention immediately went to the cousin. Samantha started to explain that when he committed suicide he left a note. As she was speaking, I looked away and asked, “Why did you do it?” and I heard, “I HAD to.”  I looked back at Samantha and, interrupting her, telling her what he had just said.

“Yes! That’s what he said in his note!” Samantha told me. “That he HAD to!” She went on to explain the financial trouble her cousin was in and felt the only way to get his family out of the mess was to take himself out of the equation in order for them to get his life insurance payout.

At this point, I was wondering if there was more to this visit that I needed to uncover. Many of my readings leading up to this seemed to have procured some piece of advice or comfort that the person still on earth needed to know.   Like when Amy’s brother told her that she was NOT expected to take on the burden of helping their nephew. Or when Gina’s brother told her that he didn’t want her to be angry at his murderer because after all was said and done, he deserved it.   I knew I needed to dig a little deeper with this cousin, just to find out if there was more he wanted to say.

We loaded the chair in the car and watched the dogs play out front for a few minutes.  I asked Samantha again about the orange scarf. It was so significant in my visual, I thought it must mean something to her… but it didn’t. I told Samantha that even though some of these details didn’t resonate with her, to make sure when she tells the story to her mom, to repeat them, just in case. As of now, the orange scarf is still a puzzle piece that isn’t fitting, but it might be just that someone else has the other piece it nestles into.

 When the dogs started to run off and Samantha had to go retrieve them, I used the opportunity to ask the cousin one last question.  I closed my eyes and asked “Is there anything else you wanted to tell her?”

“I miss her. She has a beautiful family.” The dogs then began to bark at a passerby, breaking my concentration, and Samantha looked a little crazy in the huge yard trying to round-up the pups.  She was far enough away still that I knew I had a couple seconds, so I closed my eyes and refocused.

“Anything else?” I asked, giving him one last chance before I repeated his words back to her…

“This is funny to watch,” he told me as Samantha chased four dogs . And then after a small pause where I could tell he was smiling I heard, “No. That’ll do it.”

Oh wait- lets take a step backward.

Whoops! I went a little out of order.

In doing this blog, one of my main objectives is to tell the story from the beginning.  We have many mediums that we have access to; we can watch them on TV, read their books, listen to their podcasts… but it seems to me like the stories always gloss over the how to’s, and get right to the part about proof and validation.  It’s always the same iteration of “Well I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was ten.  And now I have your grandmother here who is showing me a turquoise watch.”

Then everyone goes, “OOOOOHHHH, my grandma DID have a turquoise watch!”

Meanwhile I’ve been the one yelling at the TV going, “wait WHAT? BACKUP. Tell me about the ghosts! What did they say? What did they look like?”

So that’s the journey I want to take you on. I have NO IDEA where my life will be in a year, two, or ten. I don’t have any desires to be on TV, have people pay to go on cruises with me, or ask anyone to spend $500 for a reading on a two year waiting list.  (Yet, anyway.  *WINK* haha! I’m not knocking it- it’s just not where I’m at.)

I just want to A) continue to learn and have extremely badass spiritual experiences happen (is that too much to ask? 😉 )  and B) to share them when they do.  Really, though, I feel like we are all finding this out together, and sometimes I’m the only one that can see the movie so I just have to tell you all about it as it goes along, you know?

Anyhow, I realized I had another story to tell when after my “coming out” a few days ago, I got a few specific email messages from friends. They were wondering if, when I’m around them, I’ve ever had any “feelings” about their loved ones who have passed away.  Here’s the deal: if you would have asked me that prior to the Henry incident, I would have looked at you like you were nutso.  But now? Well, I’m not so sure.  Let me explain…

Near the end of last year (2015), I attended a swanky party with some old friends. This was just a couple months after the Henry Incident, and I hadn’t yet had any real guidance about the whole situation. I’d discussed it with close friends and family somewhat, but my head was (almost literally) still spinning. At that point, the biggest long term goal I had was to read a few books I’d found on some, again, WEIRD, spiritual internet site.

I hadn’t been at the party very long when in walked a woman who I had known ABOUT, but had never met in real life.  I knew she had lost her sister (again in a very unexpected way) and suffice to say, they had been EXTREMELY close.  We were introduced and all standing around in circle of about, maybe 15 people. Her name was Annie*, and after the introduction, I was standing directly to her right. Within just a few moments of our meeting, I felt my body leaning towards her. I actually wanted to not only touch my arm to hers, but to lean my head on her shoulder!

The whole mental process went quickly. My head was leaning in slowly, but touchdown was approaching fast!  I had to overcome the deep desire to physically comfort this woman, with the absolute knowledge that this would be a bad scene for me.  (Our direct circle was of 15 people, but that was inside a PARTY of, oh I don’t know… 200?)  I remember pulling away from her defiantly and giving myself an internally stern “No! This cannot happen right now!”  I stood up straight and moved over a few inches and tried to rejoin the conversation.   Of course I didn’t hear a thing anyone was saying.  My head felt like a radio trying to tune in. That’s the only sound I could hear.  (I don’t even know how to spell that phonetically?! WHHHEEEEEOHHHHHHHH WHHEEEOOHHH? But take out the fluctuating “ZEEEOUUUS” of radio tuning and add more crackle. Makes perfect sense, right?)  All I could envision was a repeat of the Henry scene, but now in front of 200 people I didn’t know!  Me- sobbing hysterically in the bar? A crowd of people standing around wondering what was happening?  NUUU UHH!

I just needed to get away from her, I figured.  (To be clear, I now have the privilege of 20/20 hindsight. I don’t know at what point I was finally convinced this was a spirit and not me just being weird… but it certainly took a while.  And remember, I had yet to talk to the weird medium in Houston from the previous post, so I didn’t yet have the tools to try to channel Annie’s sister any differently.) I made a beeline for the lobby and sat down in one of those swallow you up chairs that was tucked in a hidden corner and again tried to re-ground myself.  Deep breathing, eyes closed… This was the point when I started entertaining the idea of pulling Annie aside to tell her… tell her WHAT? Good God how do I explain this?  I knew it was either that or I leave the party, which I would have gladly done, but then I struggled with, “If it was my sister, wouldn’t I want to know?”  I even actually started telling Annie’s sister, “Listen- I would love to help you but I don’t know how the heck to navigate this. You can’t just make me feel weird! You have to give me something to tell her.”

Having calmed myself down a bit, (and knowing people were going to start looking for me) I took a few more deep breaths, got some food and a soda water (Not wine! Gotta be clear headed for messages!) and made my way to a table to eat, AWAY from the bar.   Lo and behold guess who comes and sits down at the table to eat her food?  Yep. Annie.   She didn’t sit right next to me-  It was a large circular table and she was on the other side- but man did I feel her presence.

Another friend’s husband was seated next to me and he was politely making small talk, “So how have you been? What are you guys doing nowadays?”  Well, anyone who knows me knows that I have TONS to tell, and I love to talk!  I have three kids who all do amazing things and an awesome husband who is opening up a golf course with Tee Dub!   I mean, C’MON! Where do I start, right?  So I answer with,
“fine. Not much.”

All the while I keep shifting my eyes towards Annie. The anxiety was really kicking in now, so I excused myself as best I could and made a beeline for the bathroom… or the exit. I wasn’t sure where I was going to end up.  On my way out I passed my girlfriend who I had come with.  She was talking to another friend but noticed me and paused her conversation to ask where I was headed. I tried to make some neutral sign like I was just heading to the bathroom,  but I just burst into tears instead.  I had lost it- I didn’t know WHAT to do at that moment.

The two girls followed me up the stairs where I proceed to tell them what was happening. I had told my friend about the Henry incident, but we didn’t discuss it enough for me to be convinced that SHE was convinced.  Again, I come at her with, “Remember that thing I told you about? Well it’s happening again.” (This is my new tagline, apparently.) We go back and forth about the ramifications and the what ifs (Should we tell Annie? Is she open to this? Will she freak?) and I finally just make a decision: “Yes. Go get her.”

I don’t know what my friend said or how she approached her, but within two minutes, Annie was being led up the stairs to me wide-eyed and with trepidation.  I must also note that Annie seems beautiful, graceful, gentle… the kind of girl that at the get-go makes me feel like a big bounding puppy.  Which just made this even more nerve wracking.  She could tell I had been crying, and I nervously laughed through my tears and just said, “Can I talk  to you for a minute?” We walked into a separate rarely used women’s lounge and sat down at a table.  Nervous and anxiety riddled, I blathered on about the Henry story, trying to tell it in as few words as possible as to not lose my new audience in the rambling.  “So I had this thing happen and now from the moment I met you your sister will not let up! Every time I get close to you it’s like this electrical current and I can’t think of anything else! I thought of just leaving but I couldn’t imagine having your sister trying so hard to communicate with you and me not telling you about it, but I don’t really have a message I just know she’s here.”

Annie smiled and was calmly reassuring to me, “It’s ok.” I don’t remember exactly, but she even added something about being into this stuff. She told me she was on a waiting list to see the Long Island Medium.

“Oh wow! Ok!” I was so relieved to know she was open to what was happening. I explained to her that I really have no idea what the heck I’m doing but…I guess maybe I could hold her hand and see if I can get anything?

So that’s what I did. I took her hands, closed my eyes, and tried to quiet my brain.  I know I “got” a couple of things, but I still wasn’t sure what I was hearing wasn’t just me making stuff up.  Remember how I said the women’s lounge was rarely used? Yeah, well, tonight I had a parade of lounge goers. Some of them were there just by coincidence, others had noticed the commotion and tried to pretend they, too, were just there for a break as they passed by.  Needless to say, I certainly wasn’t feeling comfortable to sit there holding Annie’s hand in silence for very long.  (I’ve also since learned that stress is one of the biggest blocks. And of course, this was a stressful situation for me!) I must have waded through it because I remember telling Annie, “She loves you. And she misses you and the kids.”

I tried to explain once again that while I could sense her sister was there, I just didn’t really know what the message was.  Yet as I told her this- my whole… whats the word… self? Focus? Attitude? I don’t know that I can explain it. Something shifted. It was like all of a sudden the anxiety washed away and Annie’s sister made me feel that this was all she was asking for. She was perfectly content with me holding Annie’s hand, looking into her eyes, and Annie KNOWING that she was there.

And that’s exactly what I told Annie, hoping it was enough.  Annie replied, and I knew I had done the right thing. “Wednesday is the anniversary of my sister’s death. I have a really rough week ahead. And this is going to make it a lot easier.”

I knew then, this was no coincidence. We hugged and I told her if I ever figured this medium thing out, I’d get in touch with her to make sure we “got” it all.  I walked back downstairs and rejoined the party- all the anxiety (and mascara) now absolutely gone.

(Quick note: When I rejoined the party, another old friend approached me and gave the “whats the deal?” look.  Not having the mental energy to make anything up, I unenthusiastically said something like, “Weellllll, I had this experience recently with this kid jumping into my body to talk to his mom and now I’m kind of getting some of those vibes tonight.”

She answers, “Oh GIRRRRL, that’s nothing. I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was six.”

Yeah, we’ll come back to that one soon.)

Now that I’ve told that story, back around to what made me think of it: the emails from my friends asking if I’ve ever felt “things” around them.  Well, here’s what I figured out. If I had been in that same situation WITHOUT the Henry incident to go on- I would have written the whole party night experience off as random anxiety. The uneasiness would have probably made me go full introvert and leave early, or even more probable, drink!  Three glasses of wine will certainly (unknowingly) put Spirit in it’s place! (FYI, Now that I’m all medium-y I like to capitalize ‘Spirit’.) Anyway, I certainly wouldn’t have had the catalogue to even contemplate that it might be spiritual energy.

So have I felt weird around friends? Maybe! But if I did, I didn’t know well enough to know what was making me feel that way, and I probably either left, or (again, lets be real here) drank with you.   Odds are, there have been numerous situations where a spirit was trying to grab my attention, but I never took notice until two of them, 15 years apart, basically hit me over the head with a cast iron skillet ghost whomp.

Do I have a few more stories to catch you up to where I am today? Yes. And the next one I’m gonna tell you is so badass it gives me the chills and the willies at the same time.  But in terms of where I’m at in my learning, at this very moment, I am in the same place as when I left that party. I’m really just trying to intercept messages before they become… frying pans.



And so it begins.

(*identifying details have been changed or removed) 

So, this thing happened. A life-changing thing. I certainly wasn’t expecting it, being as the first time it happened was 15 years prior and hadn’t happened since. It’s the sort of thing where… you know how they say, “You had to be there?” …Well, you had to be there.

I still need to tell this story, though, because the mark it has since left on my absolute existence has been profound; Spiritually, I am forever changed. And maybe, just maybe, there are some people who will still read this and (because they know me well enough to realize I’m really not THAT crazy) go “Holy shit! That’s awesome!” and then know, without a doubt, that there really is SOMETHING else.

Sit tight- this is a long one.

One thing before I start the actually story from the summer, though. You kind of have to know the background on this. I had my first spiritual experience about 15 years ago. I call it the “blue hair/yellow Cadillac” incident. (“BHYC” from here on out…) I’ll cut and paste it here from when I wrote it down in 2009. Feel free to skip if you’re familiar with it:


“A few years back, my husband, sister in law, and I had a long day of discussing some extended family concerns. The conversation was extremely sad and tense and emotionally charged. We felt like we were the only ones that could fix the problem, and we had to figure out how.

Later that night, I was laying in bed, sort of back and forth from reflecting on the day and just staring at the wall. All of a sudden, I had a buzz in my right ear. It was almost like a bee just hovering there, or kind of like when your fingers are dry enough that when you rub them together you can make a buzz noise. It was enough that I literally pulled away from it and gently jerked my head to the left.

Immediately, there was a sphere in front of me- about a foot in diameter. Here’s what’s hard to explain, though. I didn’t SEE it, hear it, smell it, touch it, taste it- it just WAS. I can’t explain what it looked like, because it wasn’t visual. I just knew it was there. A ball about 12 inches in diameter and about a foot in front of my face.

Just as quickly, ideas were put into the sphere. I say “ideas,” but it was as if someone was just going, you’re going to think THIS now! And now THIS! And these ideas were IN the sphere, if you will.
The ideas went, “Nanny” “Blue Hair” “Yellow Cadillac.” And then it was gone. I guess sort of knew what was going on, but I just sat there for a few minutes not only trying to process it all, but hoping it would start again…

I finally answered my husband, who had by now noticed something was up and was trying to get me to talk. I knew beforehand that his grandmother was called “nanny” by his family. I had even met her briefly before she died, so I was very familiar with the term. So I asked him, “Did Nanny drive a yellow Cadillac?”

And he answered “yes.”
“But she didn’t have blue hair, did she?”

Hmmmm. After some more talking to him, he informed me that Nanny had had that yellow Cadillac many years back, before I knew his family, but that it was sort of her “signature car.” He also surmised that I MUST have seen a picture of her with it, and that’s how I knew. (He has still not been able to find a picture in any family books, BTW.:)

The next morning, I went out and woke up his sister from the couch. First thing I said was “What kind of car did Nanny drive?”
“Yellow Cadillac!” she said proudly.
I then repeated the same question as I had posed to my husband the night before, “But she didn’t have blue hair did she?”

“No, but her MOTHER did!”
…I can only think that “Nanny” came through to me, just trying to tell us she (and her mother) were there the whole time and knew what we were going through…”


So that’s the first one. Nothing since, although I have to admit I’ve watched many episodes of “Long Island Medium” and read a couple James Van Praagh books just thinking about how amazing it would be to have that gift more than once.

Cut to a few weeks ago. I got a call from a new friend of mine asking if I’d be interested in joining her and a few other of her friends and acquaintances on a girls weekend. Another girl had to drop out and they had an extra spot. The rooms were all comp-ed, so she just requested that I bring a couple bottles of wine. It was a no brainer.

I ended up in the “suite” with four other women. It was an absolutely gorgeous layout: a full living room, dining table, kitchenette, massive flat screen television encased in a thick gold ornamental frame, and even a big black shiny grand piano that played by itself (if you knew how to get it started, anyway.) There were two actual bedrooms on opposite sides of the suite. The far one (the big fancy master king one) was where our host Kim and her friend slept. I and two other women (Lena and Pam) were sharing the two queen bedroom.

The weekend itself was fairly uneventful. We made a few laps in the lazy river and chilled out in our big old suite drinking the wine we brought. It was on this “wine in the suite” night that I decided to tell  Pam about the BHYC incident. All the other girls were out gambling in the casino downstairs, or doing their own thing somewhere else, so it was just us two.
I’m not sure how/why the spiritual conversation got started, but despite her being a fairly devout Catholic, she was still surprisingly intrigued and supportive. (Usually when people hear this story with the religion filter thrown in, I get a mix of “it was your mind playing tricks on you,” or that it might be the “devil trying to trick you.”)

After that- we simply listened to our forty plus year old bodies and called it a night. We were going home the next morning and needed to get our schedules back to normal… little did I know the next day would be anything but.

The next morning, my two hotel roommates and I were in our beds watching some TV when Kim came in to chat. The rest of the women (aside from my suitemates) were back down gambling again and she had just woken up after a late night. She sat down in her robe and we were casually swapping stories when the subject of her son came up. I knew a little bit about his story; he had died a year before tragically. But now she was telling us that Monday had been his birthday. That it was a combination of details that once in place made him do something he wouldn’t have normally done. That she frantically tried her hardest to save him.

As awful as the details were, the conversation was more informative than anything. It wasn’t highly emotional: she only had a few tears run down her cheeks, and (if we’re being honest) I only teared up when I started putting Mack (my 20 year old son) in this kid’s place.

She got up to leave the room, “Well, I guess I should shower…” and I remember at that moment thinking somewhat callously, “Someone should probably give this lady a hug, but I don’t hardly even know her… these other two women know her way better than I do and THEY aren’t hugging her…” So I didn’t.

About an hour and a half later, we were finishing up packing to leave for home. I was standing at the foot of the bed my friend Lena was sitting in- she was watching a news report about some tornado damage and was apparently telling me a story about it… but at that moment my head started to get a bit fuzzy and I felt like my body was being pulled backwards. I even put my hand up to her to signal that I needed a moment…. I remember feeling like I needed to “get it together”- that I didn’t know Lena very well and here I go again with the “zoning out” thing I do to people. So, I attempted to steady myself by leaning forward and planting my feet to continue the conversation. At that same time, though, I needed to “test” it and see if I really was being pulled back. So I let go. Right away my whole upper torso went back like it was on a hinge. With my weight shifted, I stumbled to the side and held onto my suitcase. At this point I was now facing Pam, who had been sitting on the far end of the room, away from where I was being pulled. I remember looking at her, and at this time she and Lena were starting to ask questions… “Holly? Holly? Are you ok? Did I say something?”

I was processing so many thoughts at the time I never could have answered any of their questions. It was as if all at once I was questioning what was happening but also grasping what was happening. My internal dialogue was kicking in with “You are either about to faint- or maybe there is a ghost trying to tell you something wouldn’t that be cool but you are probably just going to faint but it could be that lady’s dead son coming through… faint?”

At almost the same time, a geometric plane went through my head. It was like a transparent record cover. You know the kind you would store your vinyls? It was exactly that size and it went through my forehead first, angled at about 45 degrees, and continued down stopping at my neck. Right when it finished, my whole brain did a little shake. It certainly wasn’t the loud buzz I had heard during the BHYC incident, but it was definitely a vibration.

It was at this point that the outward pull I had been feeling up until then turned into an inward push. It was no longer something else wanting me to go, I now HAD to go into the other room. I then stumbled through the connecting door into the kitchenette portion of the suite and used a bar stool to hold myself up- I was now breathing very hard and fast, and then… sobbing. Take your breath away, stomach punching sadness. That’s what I was feeling. But then again- I wasn’t sad. I couldn’t have told you why I was crying- I just was. I was now physically trying to make my way around a wall that separated the barstools from the kitchen. I still don’t know why I wasn’t able to just follow the lead- although I was still so confused and was questioning everything in my head. The “Holly” in me was still doing a “Why the hell do you need to go to the kitchen?”

Lena and Pam followed me, of course, again asking questions, “What is wrong? Do you need your medicine? Someone get her a wet towel! WHAT IS WRONG??”

By then, Kim had emerged from her room and was in the kitchen getting the towel,  and then hurried around the corner to get it to me.  As she got closer I grabbed her arm and held it tight and finally answered the girls’ question with, “this is where I need to be.” And then to answer their questions of “What’s wrong?” I said, “its not me, its her” as I pointed to Kim.

“What do you mean?”

This was when I started realizing the implications this could have on my newly formed friendships. They WERE going to think I was crazy. I’m going to HAVE to explain this…

“Remember that thing I told you about last night?” I said to Pam, “It’s happening again.”

(I then also started throwing in some nervous laughter of “I know this seems REALLY FUCKING weird. I swear you guys I’m not crazy!” between hyperventilation/sob breaths. )

I don’t know how I knew it was Henry. I just DID.  I never looked up and just said to Kim, “It’s your son. He’s here.”

Kim was quick to reassure me, “It’s ok. I’m very open to this sort of thing.” From that point- I couldn’t embrace her enough. They had me sit down on a chair and I immediately told her, “I need you to sit here” as I patted my lap. She sat down facing the side, and I embraced her midsection and cried harder.
I must tell you, that even up until the final moments of this experience, “Sane Holly” kept coming through with thoughts of how absolutely unbelievable this whole thing was. “How would I explain it to other people? How would I explain it to THESE people? Is this REALLY her son? I KNOW it’s her son but WHOA! This is NUTS!” I just continued to oscillate between deep breaths and crying and feeling the heavy sadness of Henry. It was one of these moments when I recognized the absurdity of this 60 year old woman I hardly knew who is larger than I am sitting on my lap. I said to the girls, “its interesting because it wouldn’t be weird for her to sit here if I was a strong 22 year old guy.” And then I went back to sobbing.

Kim started crying and calling out, “I miss you so much Henry, I just want to know that you are ok.”

I blurted out, “Everything is ok, except for this.” And when I said “This” I made some motion that I was talking about her and the state she is in. By the way- this is where it gets weirder, because those weren’t MY words. They were Henry’s.

I was still hugging her midsection when I felt this sense of peace wash over me. Bigger than anything I’d ever felt before. It was as if every weight of all of my worries was lifted- so extremely pure.  Analytical Holly then came out again, and I had to tell her “I feel SO peaceful. Its amazing.”

Kim replied, “me too.”

(I do want to sort of explain this before I go on- it was sort of like a split personality this whole time. I was feeling what Henry was feeling but I could also think freely as myself, and so I had sort of this back and forth between letting Henry completely in and yet also thinking my own thoughts about the situation. So when I said I was peaceful, it was because as Holly, I have NEVER felt that feeling. I don’t want to sell this part of it short, because for me it was incredible; it was like I was awash in absolute love.)

At about this time, I started feeling this “thing” at the base of my throat- it was like energy the size of a fist right over my sternum. It was Henry’s words, and I could then choose whether to say them or not. At first I didn’t trust it. I was questioning if they were MY words, because the alternative was just too crazy, right? I remember even thinking- “channeling her son is one thing but SPEAKING for him? That’s Whoopi Goldberg shit right there. I will now definitely be THE crazy girl.”

Thankfully, my girlfriends sensed that we needed some privacy, and left the room right around this time. I finally was comfortable enough to drop my guard, and I nonverbally “put it out there” to Henry, “Ok bud. I’ve got nothing going on today so lets do this” – and started saying his words.

That’s not to say he had a lot to talk about- I never got the feeling that he was trying to verbally communicate much- in hindsight I think he just wanted to comfort her, (and himself) with touch and his presence. The first thing I remember saying that was MY choice to actually say, was “I love you, Ma. I love you, Ma.”

Kim talked more, but I don’t remember exactly what all was said. From what I DO remember, much of the time was spent in silence and crying; simply hugging, embracing, or holding hands. But, there are a few exchanges I remember fairly clearly:

Kim was asking “why?!” and telling Henry she loved him, and I/Henry said “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Kim: “I told you not to. Grandma told you not to. Why did you do that?” (While Kim was “admonishing” him for what he’d done he made me think “yada yada” and like a hand was yapping next to your face- you know how you would do if someone is saying something you already know?) And then after a few second pause Henry/I said,

“I’m sorry.”

Kim: “And you and Jeff got into that argument and he’s still so upset that you didn’t get a chance to make up before you died.”

Henry: “It doesn’t matter”

Kim: I just wanted to see you get married and have kids of your own!”

Henry: “They’re here with me. The ones I was supposed to have. Everyone is here. “

I need to stop here again to explain another thing. When Henry said “it doesn’t matter,” it wasn’t just the words that he gave me, but a whole package of thoughts behind it.  So while I SAID “it doesn’t matter,” it actually meant three things. The first was what you would have expected- that a petty fight between friends doesn’t matter anymore. But what was also given to me was, “all this petty bullshit that you deal with on a day to day basis DOESN’T FU**ING MATTER.” The third meaning was “it doesn’t matter what you or anyone does on this earthly plane, we will all end up in the same place.”

Yeah, let THAT sink in!

Also, when he replied “they’re here with me” it was initially the only thing he said. But it was as if he realized how confusing that would sound, and I actually felt him feel the need to follow it up quickly with the explanation of “the ones I was supposed to have.”

The final exchange followed more hugs and tears in silence, and for me it was the most profound. This was the moment (as if I needed any more proof) that “Rational Holly” knew she wasn’t crazy. We were sitting in chairs facing each other holding hands and I said, “I gotta go.” At that point Kim asked another question , but I don’t remember even listening to it. My reply was, “I don’t want to, but I gotta go.” I then leaned in and once again embraced Kim’s midsection, sobbing some more. That probably lasted 10 seconds until all of a sudden it was as if someone flipped the switch. My eyes opened wide and I threw my arms to the side as if to manually release the hug…. “He’s gone!”

I quickly stood up and exclaimed “He’s gone! Holy shit! THAT WAS NUTS!” Kim looked at me confused and I had to apologize. Henry had left-  leaving “Holly” to now take in this wondrous experience, in the way Holly would, of course… with some inappropriate language. Thankfully Kim understood and I jerked my head back and forth for a few seconds looking for my other girlfriends in a “Did you SEE THAT?” way.

Immediately I found myself backing up to the wall and sliding down in complete exhaustion. I was propped up against the wall and could hardly even hold my head up. I was trying to catch my breath and was simultaneously realizing that there were now a few more people in the room that I hadn’t seen enter. “Oh wow. You just saw that… I’m really not crazy, I promise” was all I could muster.

Much like the “it doesn’t matter exchange,” the “I gotta go” also held some deeper meaning. I knew when he said it, that it was for me. He didn’t want to go, but also knew how taxing this was for me and that I had done enough for them. I still find it amazing that not only could he give me his words to say but that he could impress to me that meaning of them at the same time.

By then, it was time to leave. The girls already had my bags at the door and everyone was waiting on us.  As I sat then down in the lobby, sunken into the bench to await the car, i remember starting to think to myself “Why here? Why now?” when Kim started talking.  She told me that the day before, she had been on a walk by herself and had broken down, pleading with Henry to please just give her a sign that he was OK.

I guess he figured out a way.