Talk to Me (3 page)

SIGNS FROM THE OTHER SIDE

I had been approached by a charity organisation called the New Foundation. They were putting on a ‘Dancing with the Local Stars' event as a fundraiser. They asked if I'd participate and I agreed. I figured I'd do it as a tribute to my dad, who was a professional ballroom dancer. He had always wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I was a competitive skater and had no interest in changing sports. I decided to perform the last dance that I saw him perform for competition. It was a samba, and he danced to the song ‘Copacabana'. So there it was, my chance to dance for my dad, and I knew he would be there to see me.

While I was taking lessons, my dance partner Rik was so patient with my lack of attendance and my very hectic book tour schedule, but quick to remind me of how out of shape I really was. I tried to channel my dad when attempting to dance without stepping all over Rik's feet.

In August 2007, I was pulled to a place called Lily Dale that is outside of Buffalo, New York. I was looking to centre myself and get in a better frame of mind and maybe even relax a little. I took my own advice and made time for myself, even though it wasn't convenient—but I knew it never would be.

While I was on my f light from Phoenix to Buffalo, I was reading an uncorrected proof of my book
Secrets of the
Monarch
to prepare for my book tour. I was deep in thought, reading Chapter 8, ‘Coping with the Loss of a Parent and Learning How to Reconnect with the Dead'. The pilot's voice came over the intercom and, boy, he had a great sense of humour! He was telling us jokes, and then he broke into song. He changed some of the words to fit the airline, but he was singing to the melody from ‘Copacabana'. I grinned from ear to ear. I found it so uplifting, it was just what I needed. I smiled, knowing Dad was with me; this was a sign that many people might have overlooked, but I knew better than to dismiss such a wonderful gesture.

Anyway, I arrived in New York and I was in the car on my way to the hotel. After a restless night's sleep under a full moon and a lunar eclipse, I was up, dressed and finally on my way to Lily Dale. Yeah! As Debbie, my host, was driving me up a winding road, I looked to my right and saw the house number ‘222'. This is another of my dad's wonderful signs, since he died on 22 September 2002. I talk in detail in my books about ‘222' being his sign to me, reassuring me he is still in my corner.

I called my husband, Joe, to tell him of the fantastic signs that I'd been receiving. He shared that a fan on my blog with the nickname ‘Copacabana' wanted to know if I was going to be in Lily Dale that weekend. Well, that was icing on the cake, and I knew my dad was telling me he was giddy about my dance tribute to him and that he was around me keeping an eye on my performance. Oh, and by the way, despite my lack of fitness and skill, my dance performance went pretty well—definitely thanks to the support of Rik and my dad!

People always ask me about signs. They want to know how to recognise the signs from their loved ones. I impress upon them that they have to learn to pay attention to what their inner voice is telling them. There is something intensely intuitive inside us all, and it is as powerful as any sense that we can possess. You don't need your eyes for this kind of recognition, you don't hear it with your ears, you can't touch it with your hands; you just know it in the same way you first know you love someone. You know it because a force within you holds onto you and won't let go. You recognise the presence of a loved one even if your eyes are shut and they physically are no longer here. Even to the point that you feel you need to speak their name out loud to validate them. They love this because they know they're getting through to you after all.

There are so many great signs, but some are definitely harder to read than others. At one of my events, I had a mature yet still handsome man raise his hand to ask a question. He wanted to know why he was always seeing the number 13 on clocks. His eyes were also drawn to the number wherever it appeared, and he had a daughter born on the thirteenth as well. It was everywhere for him.

I usually like people to figure out these sorts of signs by themselves, but as Joe reminds me, I sometimes forget that task can't always be accomplished without having psychic abilities. I could feel it was a mother figure connected to the man asking the question, so I said, ‘It's got to be your mother or grandmother giving you the sign.'

He said, ‘My mum's still alive and I don't know why my grandmother would do it. Maybe it's my grandfather? We were very close.'

I shook my head. ‘No, the presence isn't male, it's female.'

He looked puzzled and said, ‘I don't know why my grandmother would need to let me know she's with me. We weren't very close, and she died when I was thirteen.'

The audience was both amused and taken aback, understandably so. The gentleman and his daughter smiled at one another and he appeared touched by his grandmother's efforts to let him know that she never left him.

It's important to keep in mind that it's not about what we want our loved ones on the other side to say or who we want brought through—it's on their terms because they're running the show. If they have energy on coming through, they'll find a way. They are emotionally based beings, so their messages are motivated by their feelings for you, not always your feelings for them. Just because you didn't know a family member in your lifetime doesn't mean they don't know you. They watch you grow up and they form an affection and love for you as if you were interacting with them on a day-to-day basis. So be careful not to deny a deceased loved one based on your limited experiences with them. It never hurts to have a large family helping you to succeed in life, even if their own life has already been lived.

OUT OF THE BLUE

While visiting our friends in Phoenix, Arizona, our friend Duffy showed us her phone, and it had an application called ‘Ghost Radar'. Joe, being science-minded, thought it was cute, so he downloaded it to his phone as well. It looks like a radar on your screen. When there's activity around it, words pop up on the screen, and I mean random words. There may be a few words an hour on a good day.

After our visit, Joe and I took off for Tucson for my next event. We never really know what kind of people we'll have at my events, since different cities carry various energies. Many people at the Tucson event were grieving lost children, so afterwards I was quite tired.

As I exited the stage, Joe pulled me aside. ‘Allison, it was the craziest thing. During the event my Ghost Radar was going crazy and the word “Mark” popped up on the screen. How random is that?'

Why this was so strange is that my cousin, who helps me at my events, is named Mark, and his dad passed the year before, so I had no doubt this was his father's way of letting him know that he was there.

Cool, huh? Spirits can manipulate electronics, so why not?

We've had many creepy yet cool messages from this application since then, but that's the one that stopped me in my tracks. And, interestingly, we haven't received another name on our Ghost Radar since that event.

When you travel on tour with somebody as often as I travelled with my cousin Mark, you get to see someone close to you deal with their own personal daily trials and tribulations. This includes how they're affected by death and the daunting task of trying to become familiar with it. Mark struggled with his personal loss of his father while trying to keep my shows together as we bounced from city to city trying to help others work through their own pain. Here's my cousin's interpretation of his own sign from above.

MARK'S STORY

It was February, and this was the month that Allison's Family Connection Tour was not only taking us to Texas but to San Antonio, the city my father was raised in, the city he loved.

My dad's name is Juan Antonio Hernandez. He was born in San Luis Potosi, Mexico, but later grew up in San Antonio. He passed away at the age of 69 from Alzheimer's on 4 April 2009. He was known to his friends and family as Anthony, Johnny or Juan, answering to them all.

My father loved music, dancing and dressing nicely. I remember him talking about singing in the church choir when he was an altar boy, as well as going to all the sock hops as a teenager and, as he would put it, ‘dancing the night away'. To this day I can visualise his shoes lined up in his closet, glowing in the darkness because of their shine. I can picture his shirts neatly pressed and his suits organised by colour. Needless to say, whenever there was soulful music and dancing, my dad was always dressed to perfection.

One of my father's favourite artists was Neil Diamond. I can remember many mornings as a young boy waking up on Saturday and Sunday to mariachi music or Neil Diamond playing on the stereo. My dad so loved Neil Diamond that he took me to four of his concerts during my youth. His favourite song was ‘Sweet Caroline', and he's the reason I'm a huge fan of Diamond's music.

As we were driving from Austin to San Antonio, I couldn't help but remember the time when my dad showed me the photographs of a visit we had made to San Antonio when I was a toddler. But since I was too young to remember that occasion, I felt that this was truly my first trip there. San Antonio was the third and final city on our February tour, and after a week in Texas, I was really excited and so looking forward to communication from my dad. I didn't know exactly what sign he would send me, but I did know he would make himself present on the visit.

Obviously, I felt very connected to the city because of its special meaning to me. I found myself being strongly drawn to the River Walk; while Allison and I had dinner in the hotel restaurant, even though I had my back to it, I was constantly being urged to turn around and I felt fixated on the view. It got to a point where I could tell Allison was getting frustrated with me because she didn't have my full undivided attention, which happens from time to time when cousins work and travel together on the road. LOL. Allison asked for the bill and in my head I said, ‘Thank God,' because by now it was even starting to bother me that I couldn't stop gazing outside at the River Walk.

We both went upstairs excited that we were getting ready for our last event. As usual, the event went well, and Allison and I headed to the hotel bar to decompress. Our decompression sessions usually consist of a few cocktails and Allison and me discussing the readings. We do this because it is very common for us to get sick if we don't release the energy from the event through conversation.

After our discussion, Allison stepped outside on the patio and later returned with the biggest grin on her face that I've ever seen. She wanted me to join her outside because there was a group of men playing and singing music on the same patio that I had been drawn to earlier. As I walked out onto the patio, I had a feeling that something magical was about to happen.

I saw the musicians. They were Hispanic, dressed in tuxedos and enjoying life as they sang and swayed from side to side beneath the moon. After the first song ended, the gentleman in the group with the guitar asked me what song I'd like to hear. I told him ‘Sweet Caroline', not knowing if he could play the song or not. These guys weren't musicians the hotel hired, they were businessmen who brought their instruments with them because it's their hobby, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

The guitarist began playing the song and all I could say was, ‘Thank you, Dad.'

I wanted to say thank you to my dad because even though he had sent me signs since his passing, for the first time I really knew that I was truly communicating with him and that he was listening to every request I had. I thanked him for being a great father, for moulding me into the person I am today, for still being with me, guiding and helping me to raise my two boys as he raised me.

The next morning, I left San Antonio feeling like I'd had a vacation with my dad in his new life. I will never forget the trip, and I have been playing Neil Diamond music for my boys since—guess what their favourite song is?

By the way, coincidentally Allison and Neil Diamond have the same birthday, too. It makes a lot of sense since Allison and Neil definitely both live life their way and both have a gift that allows them to connect with their audiences.

2
Hearts and souls

J
oe is the love of my life and the father of my three beautiful girls. When the television show
Medium
toyed with the idea of Joe dying and leaving us, it shook me to the core. It also inspired me to write this chapter and to dedicate it to all the people out there who lost their love far too soon. If you're lucky enough to have a person in your life who makes you feel more alive than you ever knew was possible, hold them often and never take them for granted because there are no guarantees for tomorrow. I hope this chapter makes you want to do something nice for someone you love. If it does, think of the exponential good that has come out of learning from loss.

LOSS OF A SOULMATE

While I was touring Australia, I read a young woman named Janeta at one of my seminars. She had endured a lot of pain, pain that most of us never experience. Still, she wasn't bitter or resentful; she was a very special lady trying to stay positive as she pieced her life back together.

When she learned about her life-changing loss, Janeta was pregnant with her son. The person she had lost was her husband. I can't imagine the thought process she went through wondering how she was going to describe to her son how wonderful his dad was and what an aneurysm is—this thing that ended his father's life.

When somebody like Janeta crosses my path, I'm so grateful to be able to sit with them and try to walk them through the darkest days of their lives, so they can come back into the light of the living. Here's Janeta's account of our reading.

JANETA'S STORY

In 2004, I met my soulmate, the man of my dreams and the love of my life, and fell helplessly in love with him. I thanked God every single day for blessing me with such a great love. I truly felt lucky to have such an amazing relationship and marriage. Paul and I were inseparable, and we did everything together. My family adored him, as he was such a good-hearted man. He was handsome, athletic, a hard worker and very humble. We planned on sharing a long life and growing old together. I couldn't imagine being without my husband—he was my life, the air I breathed, my world.