You Are a Medium: Discover Your Natural Abilities to Communicate With the Other Side (4 page)

my enthusiasm. I grew up in a predominantly catholic neighbor-

hood. My friends all went to catholic school, confession on Satur-

days and mass on Sundays. We were Baptists and attended church

just as regularly. For me going to church was as boring as going to school. It was something that I had to do. It seemed to have no connection to the “real” world as I knew it. My mother was reverently

involved with the church and she wanted her children to share her

devotion. But, I never took to it the way that I was expected to.

In my church, children went to Sunday school in the basement.

We sang songs and the teachers moved felt Bible characters around

on a sticky mat. Baptists are not known for being especially open

to communicating with those on the other side, psychics and the

supernatural. From a young age I heard warnings about the ac-

tivities of the devil and the importance of following Jesus. Yet I

wasn’t completely sure of what that meant. The devil I imagined

made people do bad things like steal, smoke cigarettes and hurt

others. My naivety and stubbornness protected me. I knew in my

heart that what I was experiencing was not bad or of the devil. I did
The Good Dead: My Early Years ~ 19

after all have an angel sister who was always close by. The sparkly light around flowers and plants was beautiful. Knowing what others were thinking helped me more than once and the spirit visitors

were harmless and often warm and kind. This was not evil scary

stuff.

From the Bible stories that I regularly heard, I knew that Jesus

performed miracles and communicated with angels and saw the

future. It seemed to me that he had one exciting adventure after

another. That is until he was crucified. Yet, rising from the dead he told his disciples that we did not really die. He was still alive and after we died we would also be spirits. At least this is how I interpreted it.

While my friends were trying to be good and say their prayers

I preferred to embrace a different message from my religious up-

bringing. I wanted to explore the mysteries and miracles that Jesus spoke of. I wondered if others could walk on water and bring the

dead back to life. I thought it unlikely, but I wanted to know for

certain.

Searching for Walt Disney

I did my best at encouraging my friends to join me in exploring the unknown. I can’t remember how I knew what a séance was or how

to conduct one, but it seemed like an exciting activity. I had been aware of the presence of people who had passed over as far back as

I could remember, but I had never summoned someone at will. I

wanted to see if I could.

One hot summer afternoon I persuaded my younger broth-

ers and a few friends to hold a séance with me. We went into the

basement which was always dark and cool, even on the hottest of

days. Sitting on the cement floor, my friends looked to me as the

leader of this supernatural adventure. We didn’t have a candle and

matches so I made due with a small flashlight. Sitting in a circle

around the flashlight with our knees touching, I pretended to know

20 ~ The Good Dead: My Early Years

what I was doing. Contacting the dead was the kind of nervous fun

that I enjoyed. Because not all of my friends shared this passion,

I acted with confidence. I announced that everyone had a vote in

who we chose to contact. But, no one seemed to have an opinion.

The room went silent. None of my friends volunteered a name and

most seemed reluctant to try and conjure up the spirit of a relative or anyone that they knew.

I knew that I had to pick someone who we would all be enthu-

siastic to visit with. Every Sunday night we would all gather in our living rooms to watch the Walt Disney Show. I knew that this was

everyone’s favorite show. Walt Disney, I quickly remembered was

no longer alive. He seemed like the perfect spirit to call forward.

Fortunately my friends agreed.

I began the séance. “Mr. Walt Disney,” I repeated over and over.

“Please come close and let us know that you are here … give us a

sign.”

After a couple of minutes of quiet interrupted by restless gig-

gles a crashing noise came from the shelves not far from where we

seated. Our giggles turned into shrieks. The light was turned on

and we found that a board game and a couple of GI Joe action fig-

ures had fallen of flew off of the shelf.

Was this a sign from Walt Disney
? We all wondered.
It had to be
, we concluded.
It would be just like him to play with our toys
. And so we were convinced.
Walt Disney had paid us a visit.

I do not know if this was truly the spirit of Walk Disney. After

many years of connecting with spirits I now know that another

spirit may have taken this opportunity to rattle our nerves and give us a thrill. Manifesting physical phenomena is a common way for

the other side to let us know that they are present. They can cause lights to blink and flash. Create humming sounds on phones, manipulate electrical currents and cause television reception to get

fuzzy or spontaneously change the channel or volume. Like our

games tumbling from the shelf they can also move and hide things,

The Good Dead: My Early Years ~ 21

drop pennies in our path and stop, speed up or slow down watches

and clocks.

My Grandfather

For the next several years my connection with the other side con-

tinued in a satisfying and often fun kind of way. I still felt and saw the presence of my sister and other family members and my intuitive and psychic sensitivity continued to increase.

One afternoon while eating lunch, my mother announced that

her father had died. For years the wall of silence separating my

mother and her father was thick and impenetrable. They did not

speak or communicate in any way. It wasn’t until my mother re-

ceived a card from a relative several months after her father’s death that she heard the news. She did not seem particularly sad or upset when she told us of his passing. Her attitude was more matter of

fact and there was no further discussion about him.

My grandfather was a poor Italian immigrant when he came to

this country as a young man. He settled in New York City at the

time when Italians were thought of as dirty and subservient. He

was from Northern Italy and had light hair and blue eyes. After

changing his last name to a more American sounding name and

learning English, he “passed” as non-Italian. Many years later as a successful business man, he wore a suit wherever he went and drove

a shiny black car. This is how I remembered him from the few times

we met.

My grandfather’s death proved to be the beginning of our rela-

tionship. It is not uncommon during readings for a family member

that my client did not know well to come through. My client usu-

ally reacts to this by explaining to me that they did not know the

parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle that is present very well. They

are often surprised and often uncomfortable when someone who

they are not familiar with comes through from spirit with a mes-

sage for them. We assume that if we did not have a relationship

22 ~ The Good Dead: My Early Years

with a family member in the physical world, then we do not have

one in the spiritual realms. This is far from the truth. Once our

family members are on the other side, they soon realize that healing the family connections that they did not honor while in the physical world, are vital to their growth and evolution. It was only after my grandfather’s passing that I got to know him. My connection

with him began a new chapter in my connection with the other

side.

Family Healing

About a year or so after his death, my grandfather paid me a visit.

One morning while sitting in my room reading, I started to feel

drowsy and closed my eyes. Instantly in my mind’s eye I saw an

image of him. He was dressed in a black suit and had a serious look on his face, I knew it was him.

“I am your grandfather.” I heard him say. As he came closer I

began to feel a little nervous. I was confused and didn’t know what to do. I was used to seeing spirits but they were not as forceful and determined as he seemed to be.

With equal determination I sent him a telepathic message back.

“Go away.” I said.

Telepathy is the ability to send, receive and become aware of

others thoughts. By now I was becoming accustomed to exchang-

ing messages with the spirit world in this way. I then got up left my room and tried to forget about the encounter.

A few days later he returned. Again, I was alone in my room

and I suddenly felt him close. I closed my eyes and saw an image of him similar to my first meeting. I was curious and wanted to see if I could observe him without interacting like I did most of the spirits who I encountered. But, he had a purpose for this visit.

“I have a message for your mother.” He abruptly announced. In

my mind all of the stories that my mother had told me of the sor-

row and pain that he caused her came rushing in.

The Good Dead: My Early Years ~ 23

“Go, away.” I inwardly yelled. “And don’t come back.”

This was the first time that I was uncomfortable with my con-

nection to the spirit world. Although I was a bit flustered by my

earlier séance and I had watched a few scary movies and heard sto-

ries of ghosts who haunted places and people, I felt confident in my special world. Now I did not know what to do.

My grandfather however, would not be turned away so quickly.

He persisted. I was becoming accustomed to his visits and it wasn’t long before he once again returned.

The next time I felt him, I paused before running away. I was

by now accustomed to his intense presence. So, this time I tried to relax, focus and tune into him. As usual he was dressed in a dark

suit and he seemed to have a look of concern on his face.

“What do you want?” I tried my best to summon some confi-

dence.

“Tell your mother that I am sorry and that I love her.” He tele-

pathically broadcast my way. Then he was gone.

Fat chance of that
, I thought.
After all he put her through I don’t
think she would even believe me
.

Now I was truly perplexed. I knew that if I gave this message to

my mother it was highly likely that she would get angry. She had a

fierce temper. There was a silent but strict policy in my home. Do

not talk about her family. There was also the issue of her believing me. We did not share the same awareness of those in spirit. This

was my private world and I did not want to open myself to her

scrutiny. I hoped this would all just go away, but it did not

Within a few days, my grandfather again made his presence felt.

“Please tell your mother I am sorry.” I heard one morning while

I was waking up. In a half asleep state, I saw my grandfather standing near my bed. “I did not know.” He pleaded “I was too proud.

She needs to know that I love her.”

In my drowsy state I could feel his emotions more acutely and

they were real and deep. I knew that this was important to him.

24 ~ The Good Dead: My Early Years

Covering my head with my pillow, I waited a minute or so than got

up and tried to shake off the overwhelming feelings that I received from him.

I knew that I had to do something. My grandfather would not

give up until I talked to my mother. By now I knew that with his

strong will and determination he would persist.

I soon got my opportunity. Walking into the kitchen one Sat-

urday morning I saw my mother sitting alone at the table drinking

coffee. I was anxious as to how to approach her. But, I knew this

was my chance.

With no introduction and in the most nonchalant voice I could

muster I said. “Maybe your father loved you.”

I was ready for the wrath of hell to break open but to my sur-

prise she simply said. “Why do you say that?”

“Well,” I continued. “Maybe he loved you, but he was confused

and didn’t know what to do and how to tell you.”

My mother looked out the window. “It’s funny you should

bring this up.” She said. “A few nights ago I had a dream about

him. Then yesterday while I was folding the laundry I remembered

something that I had forgotten. Soon after my mother died,” she

continued. “He asked me to move back into his house. I was liv-

ing with a friend at the time. My father told me he wanted me to

come home. I told him that he hurt my mother and that she cried

every day. It was his fault that she died. I hated him for this and told him I would never speak to him again. He looked at me with

tears in his eyes and I knew that he loved me. But I had to be loyal to my mother, even after her death. I couldn’t let him into my life.

I thought I owed this to my mother. Maybe I did want him to be a

part of my life. Maybe it could have been different.”

I never heard my mother speak of her father without resent-

ment in her voice. With a distant gaze she continued to stare out

the window. A calm look of peace came over her.

The Good Dead: My Early Years ~ 25

“He loves you and he is sorry for all of the pain.” Shot out of