Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side (18 page)

and likes to watch me work. I asked her if she knew where

her parents were; to which she responded
NO.
I then asked if she would like help to find them, but she insisted that she was happy to stay at the clinic with me. She told us that she had

followed me from the Carinup tavern, and indeed I had been

aware of a little ghost girl scurrying about the dining room

prior to that evening’s séance.

As happy as I was for the little girl to stay with me, I told

her I didn’t think it was healthy for her to remain at my clinic.

She deserved more attention than I could give. I asked if she would like me to arrange for someone to help her cross over

into the light. Again she was quite adamant; the answer was

NO.

My little spirit friend then proceeded to shake and tip

the table; she was obviously basking in the opportunity to

physically express herself. We praised her lavishly before she stepped back.

As I write this, it’s only been four days since our séance. I

spent yesterday consulting at my clinic and as always, the spirit girl stood beside my treatment trolley and sporadically flashed her radiant, blue light.

I told her that as welcome as she was to stay with me,

that perhaps I could at least show her the light and she could decide from there. I told her I would arrange for someone to

come and show her the way to cross over, but she didn’t have

to go if she didn’t want to.

The little girl didn’t give me any indication as to whether

she was amenable to the idea, but I decided to arrange for

someone who specialises in ghost rescue to come to the clinic

regardless. I expect it was more than a little coincidental that Seance at the Clinic 147

my friend Leni was raving about such a person just a few days

earlier and had given me his card. According to Leni, Ravi is

an incredibly gifted medium, the likes of whom she had never

experienced in her seventy years. I felt that Ravi was the right person to call, if not to help cross the little girl cross over, to at least give me more insight as to who she was and why she had

so steadfastly attached herself to me.

Our Friday night séance also gave my spirit friend Gary a

further opportunity to come through.

As soon as the table was free, Gary stepped in and asserted

himself with his usual sense of humour. I told my guests that

Gary was probably one of the best table tippers I’d ever met

and to prepare to be impressed. He assured me he wouldn’t let

me down.

I really should’ve expected Gary to join us all along, since

his father, Steve had been the last patient of the day. Gary

must’ve gotten wind of my impending séance and decided to

hang around.

Once he identified himself, Gary couldn’t wait to start

moving the table. He began by systematically tipping it

towards the ladies, ensuring that his attentions were shared

equally amongst them.

“What about poor Andrew?” I asked. “Why don’t you tip

the table towards him?”

The table kept moving steadily, but it simply wouldn’t tip

towards Andrew. The more we asked for Gary to do so, the

more steadfastly he tipped it the other way.

“Awww, Come on mate!” implored Andrew light-heartedly.

“How about sending a bit of love this way?”

“How about it?” I asked Gary. “Is Andrew going to get any

attention or not?”

148 Seance at the Clinic

A moment later, the table legs began to scrape across the

tiles, and in one swift motion it had slid across the floor directly towards Andrew. It wedged itself between his legs, after which it tipped straight into his lap.

Andrew laughed as he thanked Gary for the attention, and

moved his chair backwards to release himself. Without hesi-

tation the table skidded towards him once again, and tipped

itself straight back into Andrew’s lap. By now we were all

laughing. It seemed our amusement was egging Gary on. Each

time Andrew moved away from the table, it skidded across the

floor tiles and into his lap once again.

By the time we decided to finish proceedings, we were all

feeling elated albeit drained. Interactions such as we experi-

enced that evening are reminders that death is hardly the great divide we sometimes imagine it to be. Spirits are very much like ourselves, with the same sense of joyousness and humour. Physical death doesn’t alter the true essence of the person; the spark which is the true self invariably remains the same.

Death can be likened to trading in an old and run-down car

for a new one. The soul’s vehicle has simply been upgraded to

a higher vibrational, superior model; but the driver remains the same. Although going by my interactions with spirits like Gary, I suspect many of the “drivers” feel much happier in their new cars!

S h i r l e y ’ s F u n e r a l

There is no doubt that funerals are amongst life’s saddest

events. But imagine if there was some joy to be gleaned from

the loss, if there was hope amongst the heartache …

Shirley’s death from a sudden heart attack came as a great

shock. Despite being eighty two years of age, Shirley was as

bright and engaging as ever, and seemed to be enjoying the best of health.

Only two days earlier, her daughter Kelly and I were extol-

ling Shirley’s vast list of virtues, as well as laughing at her lifelong obsession with going to the movies. Shirley was a cinema

stalwart; not a week went by without her seeing at least two

of the latest movies. Her family joked that she was
Greater
Union’s
best customer, and probably suspected it was likely to be true.

149

150 Shirley’s Funeral

The cinema-loving, international traveller,

Shirley; pictured with her daughter, Kelly.

As well as being my dear friend, Kelly’s mother, Shirley

was also one of my patients. As such we grew close over the

course of several years. I never tired of hearing her reviews of the latest films. Shirley kept every ticket stub and wrote notes on each and every movie she ever attended. I imagine this

went some way towards keeping her mental faculties remark-

ably intact.

Shirley made sure she saw every new movie regardless of

genre; dramas, cartoons, comedies and horror flicks, she was

an authority on them all.

“What about the
Paranormal Activity
movies?” I asked her.

“Surely you haven’t been to see those?”

“Of course I have!” she laughed.

I was incredulous, as despite my real-life experiences with

the other-side, the Hollywood depiction of hauntings easily

left me terrified.

“And …?” I asked. “What did you think of them?”

“They were weak,” said Shirley. “Didn’t scare me one bit!”

Shirley’s Funeral 151

I was relaying this conversation to Kelly on the weekend of

Shirley’s passing, as we sat up chatting after dinner. Never for a moment did we imagine that less than forty eight hours later,

Shirley would be dead.

As far as the family could make out, Shirley had made her-

self a hot chocolate and settled into her armchair to watch a movie. She must have collapsed shortly after, as when her son, Mark found her, her hot chocolate was still warm.

Shirley’s family were distraught, unable to comprehend the

suddenness of her passing. The numerous eulogies at Shirley’s

funeral attested to how very adored she was. Her grandson,

Kiran even composed a song for her, the performance of which

was a highlight of the service. He valiantly made it through

each and every verse; his voice wavering with tears and emo-

tion. We all sobbed with him as the song soared towards its end.

I hadn’t attended a funeral for quite some time, and I won-

dered whether my increased clairvoyance would reveal any

insights that I would have otherwise missed. It didn’t take long for me to realise that this was to be my most eventful funeral yet.

I became aware of the first apparition shortly after the ser-

vice began, and it seemed to intensify as time went on. A small pair of gold wings hovered above Shirley’s casket, appearing intermittently for short 3-4 second bursts. All in all, they appeared half a dozen times, all the while glowing with their intense golden light.

At first I thought that the wings belonged to Shirley, but

reassessed this after seeing a Shirley-shaped bust appear on the blank video screen before me. Shirley seemed to be watching

over the congregation, and I was later to discover that she was basking in the love and attention being shown to her.

152 Shirley’s Funeral

I later researched the meaning of psychically seeing gold

wings and discovered that they symbolise spiritual wisdom and

ascension. I wondered whether they belonged to an angelic

being who had come along to help Shirley transition to the

higher realms. Whatever they were or whoever they belonged

to, seeing them gave me a wonderful sense of peace. I had no

doubt that Shirley was being lovingly guided along her way.

Once the video screen flicked on, Shirley’s silhouette dis-

appeared. In its place, we were shown a photographic repre-

sentation of Shirley’s life. From the old black and white photos of her childhood, to her most recent adventures travelling the world, significant moments on Shirley’s life played out on the screen before us.

Shirley’s joyousness was evident in every single photo, but

none more so than a shot of a laughing Shirley modelling a

tight, unflattering beanie. Her hands are reaching towards the camera as she imitates a gangster-pose, a comical expression

on her face. At this point, the entire congregation began laughing, upon which Shirley was quick to display her amusement

herself. A large, brilliant light began flashing beside her casket.

It was an intense and beautiful purple colour, which continued to flash until the laughter died down. Each time it pulsed, I felt an overwhelming pang of emotion in my chest. It was obvious

that Shirley was thoroughly enjoying her send off, and it was

comfort to know she was there.

The privilege of my clairvoyant vision transformed a heart-

rending, sad event into something magical. Although I was

expectedly tear-stained and emotional as I left, a larger part of me was rejoicing at Shirley’s next great adventure. A more fitting song couldn’t have been chosen, as Queen’s
“I want to
Break Free”
resonated through the chapel. Shirley had said her Shirley’s Funeral 153

farewells and assured us she was fine, and now she was ready

to move on. Shirley left us armed with her joyousness, love

and a pair of gold wings … no doubt ready to embark on her

most exciting journey yet.

T h e I n t e r a c t i o n s

o f O t h e r s

Everyone seems to have a ghost story, or at least it sometimes feels that way. As time goes on it feels as though my own

ghostly experiences are not as unique as I had first imagined

them to be, and I can’t help but think that the spirit world is progressively weaving itself within the fibres of our own.

My work as a podiatrist places me in contact with people

from all walks of life, many of whom bring with them mat-

ter-of-fact accounts of their own encounters with ghosts. They range from fleeting visitations to full-blown, protracted hauntings; both of which add a richness to my workday as I share in these amazing stories.

My work as an author also attracts the attentions of those

who have had similar experiences to mine. I am frequently

privy to the personal ghost stories of my readers, who are

eager to share their experiences of the other side.

155

156 The Interactions of Others

And of course, my friends often regale me with ghost sto-

ries of their own, knowing that their often barely believable accounts will be received with an open mind. I have experienced the absurd and the unbelievable myself, so I can’t dis-

miss the reality of these experiences in others.

I’m often emailed photographs, where orbs and ghostly

figures seem to populate the physical world in which we live.

There is no end to the steady stream of material in support of the reality of the spirit world and its inhabitants. It seems that I have an endless supply of fodder to fuel my appetite for the paranormal, and this in itself fills me with a sense of wonder-ment and joy.

It would be remiss of me to purely focus on my own expe-