Tag Archives: Reiki

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“Tell me about the color red,” Laura, my holistic counselor asked on behalf of my guardian angels. 

“What? Red? Man, I just don’t know,” I replied. “I know it’s the color of our root chakra and I know I don’t really like it all that much.” 

Pausing, I let my mind search, and then laughed, “I have been eating a shit ton of cinnamon Jolly Ranchers and Red Hots. They’re red. Could that be it?” I asked even though I knew she wouldn’t have the answer. 

True enough, she shrugged and replied, “It’s been coming up a lot for you lately.” 

Continuing, she said, “They are asking you to ‘help someone out.’” 

Wrong thing to ask. 

“Help someone out?” I stammered and shook my head in disbelief, tears of frustration pricking my eyes. “I already do pro bono work, I put my desires on hold, I reach out to those who are going through difficulties even though I’m way deep in the shit myself. I sorta wanna give my angels the finger for that comment. I’d like to help myself out for a change.” 

She, no stranger to cryptic angelic missives, smiled and nodded, letting me know she heard and understood me, but that she was powerless to do anything.

After leaving her office, I headed for another appointment at a local plasma donation business. The idea of donating plasma had been floating around my consciousness for a few months but didn’t fully click until I had taken our daughter to an outdoor children’s event in June. It was there, after roaming freely, we found ourselves in front of their kiosk. 

Imagine that! I thought, followed by, I wanna do this. Impulsively I grabbed a business card and the next day I made an appointment. It would be several weeks until I fully understood why. 

Those weeks passed and I found that I kind of liked donating plasma, mainly because it was the one place I was forced to relax – errands or chores couldn’t be done while tethered to a blood-sucking machine. Instead, when I was sequestered in a comfortable chair, it was one hundred percent me time. I listened to the ambient conversations, read a book, daydreamed. Is it any wonder I asked if I could donate more than the maximum of twice weekly?  

Currently, I was thinking about the lucky people who would be receiving my super-duper, Reiki-infused, maximum-healing plasma when a young phlebotomist greeted me. I glanced at her ID tag and thought her name was beautiful.

“Hi, Amara.” I chirped. 

“Oh, you pronounced my name right! So many people mess that up. How are you today?”

We exchanged pleasantries while she attended to business and since I’m always curious as to why people work the professions they do, I asked her. She answered and then added, almost as an afterthought, “I can’t donate, though. I have a disease that prevents me from doing so.” 

With that seemingly random utterance, unsolicited intuitive information flooded my brain. Startled, my eyes broke contact and I stared at the wall grappling with what to do.

Dammit, Guys, I internally hissed, You know I hate doing intuitive work outside of session. You know that! 

Their response: Help someone out.

Aw shit. You’re kidding me, right? No. No, no, no, NO! Don’t ask this of me. I can’t possib–

“Okay, Melissa. You’re all set. Feeling okay?” Amara asked.

My eyes snapped back to hers and I nodded absently, thinking, Oh, sweet girl, I can feel how swollen and hot your abdomen is and how your fluctuating moods take their toll.

After she left, I whispered, “Shit!” and then once again to myself. 

Again, the Guys spoke: Help someone out. 

This presented a dilemma. Do I break my self-imposed rule of not doing Reiki or intuitive work outside of session or do I keep my yapper shut? 

I took a deep breath and began pumping my fist with more force than was necessary. For several minutes, I stared without seeing, thinking about what to do, and when my vision regained focus, I was looking at my blood making its journey through the clear tube, and into the collection bin. It was then my worlds collided. 

Red. 

(“Tell me about the color red.”)

Oh my God. RED!

(“It’s been coming up a lot for you lately.”)

Ho-leeey shit! And just like that, I knew why I had found my amazing Trailblazing Communications counselor (I couldn’t quit staring at her picture on Facebook’s “People You May Know”), and why I sensed there wouldn’t be many, if any, future plasma donations. 

With that mystery solved, a relieved smile broke out on my face, my eyes closed, and my head lolled backward. Two things became clear: I was here for Amara, and, without question, I needed to help her. I took a few minutes to think of how I could do that while still maintaining my professional standards. The answer came just as Amara was returning. 

Now or never, Guys. Help me.

“Hey,” I said after taking a deep breath. “Have you ever considered – or would you consider – taking a probiotic for your lower abdomen?” 

“I had a friend who did that and she had good results, but I’ve not thought about it. Why would you suggest that?”

Danger. Danger! “Oh, I’ve heard (I wasn’t lying!) that it might make a difference. You do have issues with your gut, right?” It wasn’t a reach, especially since I knew a little bit about her illness, still, I do love me some validation. 

“Uhhhhh yeaaaaah,” she replied hesitantly while wrapping the bandage around my arm and giving me a side-long questioning glance.

I know that look, I thought. She thinks I’m an alien. I gotta be careful or she’s gonna shut down and I’ll have lost another one to Ditech.

“Well, if it feels right, maybe google it or look into it.” Easy, breezy.

“Um, okay. I will. Thanks.”

With that, I barely contained a mega-watt smile. I felt slightly rebellious and more than a little euphoric from having pulled off the coup. It wasn’t until I was out of her sight that I fist-pumped the air and unleashed my grin. 

God, that felt goooooood, I thought and then tears of happiness and gratitude filled my eyes. With a blink, they spilled over. I wiped them away, not caring who saw, and understood that maybe instead of trusting, as I have always done, that those who need my services will find me, it might be my turn to find them. 

Four months had passed since Amara’s cameo appearance, and just as I’d suspected, I was unable to return for more donations. I wanted to, but life had other plans. Now it was mid-November and I was at the dentist’s office where I had been told I’d cracked a tooth and needed a crown. 

I couldn’t even joke about it. In fact, my first thought was that somehow I had gotten old because only old people need crowns. My logic was faulty; it was based on seeing my own mother’s shiny gold and silver-filled mouth, not supported by facts. 

For the first of two appointments, Dr. McToothfairy’s (you like?) energy was that of a very stressed person. Again, I don’t try to do my intuitive work outside of session, but laying there, staring up at a bright light (or the ceiling), while clenching my hands into fists, bits of data floated in. 

I glanced at him and he was, as always, the epitome of comfortable professionalism; nothing about his physical appearance gave away that he was in excruciating pain. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if I could give him Reiki, but I chided myself and let it go. 

Later that night, as my ground-down, temporarily capped molar began to throb, I felt eager anticipation wondering what good would come from this. And much like Amara’s story, I didn’t have long to wait. 

At my next appointment, Dr. McToothfairy was getting ready to place my permanent crown when I’d had enough of the Should I or Shouldn’t I game. “Thomas?” I asked. “What did you do to your shoulder? It’s . . . incredibly painful.”

Poor Thomas. He pushed his stool away and looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I had all I could do to keep from laughing. He stared at me for several seconds (probably trying to decide how to play this, I thought), then blinked his eyes and responded, “Yes. Yes, it is. About five years ago I was in an accident and it’s been incredibly painful ever since. How did you . . .” 

“Because I can feel it. Oh my God, I can feel it!” 

Dr. McToothfairy knew what I did for a living, but he didn’t know. I watched as his lips parted and confusion flashed in his eyes. It was then I asked if I could do energy work on him and that meant I would lightly place my hands on the front and back of his shoulder and give him Reiki. I added that I knew he was busy, so I’d be careful not to take up too much of his time. 

Another blink followed by a pregnant pause, and then as if he was talking himself into it, “Uhhhh. Okayyyyy? Well, sure!” 

I explained what Reiki was and how he might feel during and afterward while I was administering it. After three minutes, I knew I had done all I could. 

“There you go!” I said, removing my hands and flashing a smile.

“Wow! I think that did reduce the pain. Thank you!”

I didn’t know whether to believe him or not but within minutes he said, “You know? I think I have more mobility in my neck, and I swear my pain has been reduced. That’s amazing! Thank you!” This time I knew he meant it. 

Then it hit me. That’s why I cracked my tooth so that I could help him!  Then, with a message for my angels, Did you really hafta have me break a tooth to accomplish this? Jeez! This is effing expensi– 

“I just can’t believe it!” Thomas said. “I may have to come and see you!”

Flustered, I rushed my response, “Dr. McToothfairy, noooo . . . that’s not why I did it. I’m not trying to drum up business, I swear! I could just feel your pain and felt drawn to asking you if I could try to help.”

He continued, “Well, I’ve tried massage, physical therapy, you name it, and I’ve not gotten much relief, but this . . . Wow! I haven’t felt this good in years!” 

His excitement was contagious, and I found myself smiling from ear to ear. The next day I received a voice mail from him saying, “I just have to thank you again for what you did yesterday. I slept great and feel even better today! I don’t know exactly what it was that you did, but I sure am thankful.” 

Of this, I did not doubt since I, too, was deeply thankful.

Some details and names have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.

Priestess

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I saw a petite, slender woman clad in a deep emerald green velvet cloak. The hood of her cloak was large and hid her face. Tied at her waist was a golden cord with golden tassels. She walked with confidence, grace and surety. Her pace was not too fast, not too slow.

I heard she was “amassing her fiend*” by finding/collecting people, crystals, small bottles filled with healing potions/herbs/animal parts, etc. This woman had very carefully thought out her selections. I could sense she was very, very powerful and would not be harmed by man or beast as she moved about on her journey.

As I was describing this vision to my client, I saw a pair of large, ice blue eyes float into my intuitive vision. No face, just eyes. I knew they were hers. At that moment I heard, “Priestess.”  My physical eyes widened, I inhaled a startled breath and I sputtered, “Lisa! Oh my GOD! YOU! Lisa! This person is a Priestess! She was/is YOU!”

Lisa, my sweet, spiritual neophyte (bucket list word!) who is gently opening and growing her intuitive self in this lifetime, widened her beautiful hazel green eyes. She swept her arm up over her head and, using her elbow, rose slightly from the Reiki table. She excitedly said, “That’s what the gal from Canada JUST told me! She said I was a Celtic Priestess!”

As a side note, I wasn’t sure if this Priestess was Celtic or not, but later, in USBank’s drive through, I was thinking about this and the word “Druid” popped into my head. Druid? Isn’t that a phone? Since USBank’s drive through is routinely excruciatingly slow, I immediately googled it. Wouldn’t ‘cha know, there IS such a thing as Celtic/Druid Priestess. Win for Psychic Canada Girl and win for Intuitive USA Girl!

I focused my attention on the Priestess, again.  She spoke to me without physically speaking.  As she extended a flawless, well-manicured and youthful hand towards me, she said, “I will help you heal.” In my head, I looked around to see if she was talking to me. It appeared she was. I started to say, “I don’t need healing” but quickly changed my tune and said, “Uhhh. Ok. Sure. Thank you.”  Who am I to question a mega-powerful Priestess from the past who wants to help me heal.

I mentally reached out to take her hand, but it wasn’t my hand that I saw. It was the large, gnarled, big-boned hand of an ancient crone. As our hands connected, I saw the hand and the arm of the crone begin to shimmer. It was as if her skin had become a thousand flesh-colored butterflies and they were all lifting off at once. The process began at her fingers, moved to her hand, wrist and up her arm.  I could hear the audible noise of an atomic clock resetting itself after its battery had been replaced. As I watched the butterflies rise and disappear, I refocused my eyes on the arm. It had morphed into a more youthful hand and arm. It was also much more feminine in size and had no hint of being gnarled or aged.

I looked up at the face of the hand/arm and it was either a completely different woman or it was the crone in her late 50’s. The energy of this woman and that of the crone was different as was their physical bone structure. This woman had very short, coarse, thick, badly cut dark black hair. Her face was smudged with dirt or ash. Her clothes were barely rags. They were moth eaten and way too big for her emaciated frame.  The clothing was also a different style, or era, than the crones.

No sooner had I taken in this visage when the butterflies started fluttering their wings again. They lifted off and I watched as the emaciated woman with the thick black hair dissolved into a young maiden. She was wearing a blue hooded cloak, which was tied with a delicate bow at her throat. Her head was ensconced within the hood but some of her light brown hair cascaded out of the hood where it softly curled around her neck and shoulders.  Her cheeks were pink with the flush of youth; her eyes were blue and alive. Her smile was captivating and innocent and her face was unlined. She was lovely.  She, too, carried different energy than the others.

That is where the Priestess and my interaction ended. I’m still unsure if the women were me at different times during my lives or if they were someone else. It could be that she healed some past-life mumbo jumbo so that I’ll be free of it in this lifetime. Interestingly enough, I had recently asked my Guides (The Guys) to help me with just that.

As I’m explaining this to Lisa, it hits me that she doesn’t have a clue as to her simmering intuitive/healing power in this lifetime. I want to bow before her and she doesn’t have a clue as to her greatness, her immense and unending power. The energy they possess is like Niagara Falls. It is powerful, magnificent, commanding and must be respected. Niagara Falls has changed the Earth’s landscape just as the Priestess/Lisa have (will) changed the spiritual one.

(No pressure, Lisa. HAHAHAHA! Seriously. Don’t even sweat it. You’ve got this!)

* A “Fiend” per Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary, 1975, is described as, “A person remarkably clever at something: Wizard.”

 

Anxiety

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I can’t pinpoint when my anxiety started but I can tell you when I realized something was not right. It was a day in early August when my husband and his employees moved their offices out of our house.

Now you would think that I would be thrilled about that. I mean, we had dreamed of having our house and privacy back for so long. But when I was faced with that reality, something fragile, a tiny thread that was my last connection to logic and rationale, snapped.

The day of the move, we loaded boxes into his pickup. As he backed out of the garage, I felt irrationally frightened. It was as if I was watching the one person who could save me, had been saving me, abandon me. I felt crushed.

When the external garage door closed, my smile faded and my waving hand fell to my side. My face crumpled. My breath caught in my throat and I felt the tears prick and burn my eyes. I took a huge gulp of air and started sobbing. In an effort to find comfort and to try to run away from the problem, I, in the style of my childhood, raced into our bedroom shutting the door on the fly. I threw myself on to our bed, curled up in the fetal position and cried. I was thinking that I should be happy but I clearly was not.

A few months prior to this, I was confronted with a situation that undid months and months of my emotional progress. My husband and I were having an alcohol fueled (tsk, tsk! I know better!) heated discussion about it and I remember saying, “This is too hard. Why does this have to be so fucking hard?! Oh my God! I wish I was dead.”

I want to be crystal clear, dear readers, I was not thinking of suicide as I do not believe in it for spiritual reasons. I also knew I needed to be here and stay healthy for my little girl. The truth is, I just didn’t want to be here anymore, on Earth. If I, say, happened to be in an auto accident, I wouldn’t fight to stay here. The thing is, at that moment, I was in such intense, deep emotional pain and I couldn’t see my way out of it. I just wanted the pain to stop.

Looking back, my outburst was a verbal cry for help. I’m still not sure exactly who the cry was meant to be heard by; me or him. But, in the blink of an eye, the external and internal conversations moved on. Sadly, even that admission wasn’t enough for me to understand how far I had fallen from my true self.

I told one of my besties about my admission and she, professionally trained to look for these signs, questioned me intently about it. I told her what I believed and that was I would NEVER commit suicide. I didn’t believe in it as I knew that I would have to relive every craptastic thing I had gone through in this lifetime again. No. No thank you. Not for all the high-end coffee in Costa Rica. What I didn’t know is that over the next few months my chemical imbalance and emotional health would continue to deteriorate until I barely recognized my emotional self.

1403676644_0988b697a9_m40 million adults in the United States have anxiety[i]. One-third get help. That leaves two-thirds, TWO-THIRDS, that don’t.

What I also ignored or attributed to something else was the physical symptoms. My hands would uncontrollably shake, my mouth would be dry, my heart would race. I even went to the doctor thinking I had high blood pressure. My insomnia worsened, I cried alot and I had the most illogical, neurotic thoughts. I found myself being overly impatient and quick to anger, especially with our daughter. I chalked this up to just being stressed or needing a night or two off from being a momma.

One night in late August my husband came home late, very late. It’s nothing new, in fact, it’s quite normal and it shouldn’t have affected me like it did, but that night I was a train wreck. I was neurotic and imagined all sorts of heinous activities on his part. I was convinced he was doing something nefarious or was dead. I called his phone and had my irrational suspicions confirmed when he didn’t answer. I sent a text to him saying that I was frightened. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I thought it was going to jump out of my chest. A few minutes later he walked through the door.

I raced into his arms, viscerally sobbing in relief. I hugged him like he was my breath. I shook uncontrollably and babbled incoherently through a deluge of tears. He hugged me and said, “Honey. Honey! What is going on? This is not like you. Honey. What is going on?!”  I pulled back and relief-sobbed that I had been imagining all sorts of horrible things happening to him and because of him.  I told him I was so frightened. He continued to hug me and said this wasn’t like me.

I clung to him in our bed that night like I was his second skin. I needed to talk with him about what I was feeling but when…when?  The next morning, after only a few hours (or minutes) of sleep, I completely lost my shit in the shower. I felt completely overwhelmed and paralyzed.  My best friend, the one I confided in whole-heartedly, my forever husband, was someone I was now struggling to speak with.

I exited the shower, robotically dried myself off and burst into tears again. I was miserable. I wrapped the towel loosely around myself and walked, zombie-like, into our bedroom. My husband, just clearing the sleep from his eyes, took one look at me and said, “Oh my God. Honey! What’s wrong!?”

My tears broke free and I sobbed while saying, “I don’t know. I think I’m broken. I need help. Something’s wrong with me. I thought I was doing ok, but after last night and this morning, I know I’m not. I’m having horrible thoughts and my neuroticism is not fair to you. I think I’m suffering from PTSD or anxiety. I need help. I’m going to call my midwife about anxiety medicine and try to find a counselor today. I’m a fucking mess.”

Then I cleared the tears from my eyes, wiped the snot from face with the back of my arm and locked my swollen, blood shot, tired eyes on his. The energy surrounding us became palpable. I took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know what I’m capable of. I don’t think I would ever hurt myself but I’m NOT myself right now. I’m just….broken. Can you either hide the guns or the ammunition immediately, please?” He didn’t question me, he just did as I requested.

I scheduled an appointment with my midwife and found a counselor that morning. My midwife started me on an anti-anxiety/anti-depressant. The counselor saw me that week.

I’m a good mix of believing in Eastern and Western medicine. I believe they both have their places in my life. What I was doing with Eastern medicine wasn’t helping so I immediately sought out Western medicine. I also believe that pills are just a band aide and that I have to address the problem, hence the trained counselor.  I previously wrote a blog called “Crazy” that spoke of how powerful the mind was and how it can control your body. My physical anxiety symptoms proved that, yet again, to me.

The medication and counseling have had a vastly positive effect on me. I feel “normal” again,  like the old chemically balanced me. All thoughts of not wanting to be here have vanished. Everything isn’t oppressive and I’ve even caught myself genuinely belly laughing. The first time that happened I thought, “What was THAT?! How long has it been since I’ve laughed this way?”

Like a broken record, I consider myself one of the lucky ones.  Not only did I recognize something had changed in my brain, but I asked for and received help. Have you?

[i] https://www.adaa.org/about-adaa/press-room/facts-statistics

Between

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It’s a place that’s not here and it’s not there. It’s a place of nothing and of everything. It’s a place people go when they are not dead but they are not alive. It’s a place I’ve been to only a few times.

This is something that is new to me as I’ve never been particularity comfortable with death. I feared it as a child. I always thought death was going to take my mom and there would be no one to care for me. I was so afraid of it, in fact, that I would often sneak into my mom and dad’s bedroom just to listen to her breathe. I sometimes slept on the floor next to her just to make sure I could keep death away. I won many battles but lost the war in 1999.

When my dad died, I had aged and matured not only physically but spiritually as well. My dad’s death was met with wonder instead of fear. I saw the angel who came for him. I saw my dad standing at the end of his hospital bed, even though he had just taken his last physical breath. My dad appeared before me months later to let me know he had “made it.”

So with my evolution into no longer fearing what I didn’t know, new gifts began to emerge. When I was still in my infancy stage (and I’m not sure I’m out of it), a friend of mine came to me. “Friend” doesn’t quite encapsulate what Eric is to me. He is the most upbeat, positive, quirky enigma I know. He’s difficult to define. He is scientific but has deep roots in spirituality. He was my first Reiki student to become a Reiki Master. His brain is wired to create and to seek out ways to make and do things better. By day he is a computer software geek. By night a cross between Doc. Emmett Brown and Einstein.  To say Eric carries a special place in my heart, in a lot of our hearts, is an understatement.

Eric’s body was rejecting his second liver. His body ate through his own years ago and he received a successful transplant. All was going well until his body started to cannibalize this new liver. Eric’s demeanor, even when his eyes and face were yellow with jaundice and his belly was severely distended, was upbeat and positive. He insisted on working right up to the point where he could no longer do so. Sometimes when I saw him, it made me realize my problems were just that; problems. This man was once again fighting for his life and happily doing so.

Prior to his second surgery, Erik and his wife asked something of me that made me somewhat uncomfortable. They asked that I give spiritual feedback of what I was seeing and hearing from Eric when he was no longer able to speak for himself. I said I would, I signed a legal document, but I was sure to state not to look to me if they were looking to pull the plug. I didn’t want that on my shoulders.

Eric’s condition deteriorated. He was admitted to the hospital while awaiting a new liver. He soon lost consciousness. His wife would email me and ask me very physical questions and I would let her know my gift didn’t work that way. I could tell her Eric was comfortable, not in any pain and that he loved her very much.

Hours passed and Eric slipped deeper into unconsciousness. So much so that when a new liver became available, the doctors thought of giving it to another individual as Eric’s vital signs were far from where they needed to be. His wife, not a believer in the spiritual realm but a supporter of her husband’s belief, emailed me. Again, she asked me physical questions and again I told her my gift didn’t work like that.  I then set out to tell her what I did see and this I will share with you now.

Eric was far away. Not here, not there. He was in a place much like outer space (I hadn’t seen the movie “Gravity” yet, but now that I have, these visions are very much like being in outer space) but different. More vast, if that’s possible. “Eric!” I internally cried, “Eric! You’ve got to come back. I know you are an explorer and probably loving all the places you’re traveling to, but you’ve got to come back. They’ve found a liver for you and you NEED to get back here.”

His wife emailed me the next day and said a new series of tests showed improvements. But that didn’t last long. His vitals and other test results started plummeting. Eric didn’t want to be here; he had gotten a taste of what was out there and he, ever the explorer/scientist/student, wanted more. I’d be damned if I was going to allow that to happen.

Not really knowing what I should/could do, I went in after him, spiritually speaking, with guns blazing. “ERIC!” I yelled inside my head, “ERIC! WHERE ARE YOU?! ERIC! YOU HAVE TO COME BACK!”  No response. No response inside my head or medically. I repeated, “ERIC! I’m not kidding around! There is a liver for you and you’ve GOT to get back to your body or they’ll give it to someone else. ERIC! DO YOU HEAR ME! You’ve GOT to get back here and give the doctors something they can go on. Don’t you DARE leave your wife. The last thing you said to her was that you loved her. GET BACK HERE, DAMNIT!  ERIC! Where ARE you?!”

Then I changed tactics a bit and said, “Eric. I know you want to explore. I know you are enjoying all of this, but you need to come back. Before you left, you were clear you wanted to come back. I need you to hear me. We need you to return, RIGHT NOW, Eric. The doctors will give your liver to someone else and you will not return. You will not kiss your wife or pet your dog again. ERIC!! COME. BACK. NOW!!!!! EEEEERRRRRICCCCCCCCCC!!!”

I’m not saying what I did worked, but it was shortly after that Eric’s tests showed promise and he received his new liver. Eric tells me he has memories of where he went and that I “got through” to him.

What I didn’t see for Eric, I did for Michelle and Cindy. Both of these ladies had left their physical body. One was end stage brain cancer and the other was in a medically induced coma.  I saw both of them floating in a place that looked like outer space. They both were attached to Earth with an umbilical cord of sorts which looked like a very thin strand of hair.  This told me things were not good, not good at all.

Michelle spoke to me and said she wanted her husband to kiss her on her lips once more. She wanted her three boys to tightly hold her hands and feet. She told her mother she loved her and had the utmost respect for her. She said she had no regrets.

I argued with Michelle about telling her husband this. Her husband does not know me and isn’t familiar with my Work. I told Michelle my kind was burned at the stake for this kind of stuff in the past. She was insistent and so I trusted and did as she asked.  I sent a text to her husband but I didn’t hear back from him. I wasn’t really expecting to. Part of me is glad he didn’t respond because I couldn’t have handled anything but kindness. Michelle passed away shortly after I relayed her messages.

Cindy is a friend of mine from way back who has never experienced my Work. I received a phone call from one of my besties that Cindy had gone into cardiac arrest and had been in a car accident. She was in a medically induced coma and it didn’t look good. Once my adrenaline evened out and I was able to quit crying, I spiritually looked for her.

I saw her way out in space but connected to Earth by a hair-thin cord. Her back was arched and there was no brain activity. She was just floating. I began to cry once again. I said, “Cindy. Cindy? Can you hear me?” I received no reply.

I laid down for a nap but couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Cindy. Suddenly, her voice filled my head. She told me she didn’t want to go (die) this way as she hadn’t said goodbye to anyone. In an instant, and in true Cindy form, her energy changed to determination but it was tinged with fear. She said, “Where am I?! I’m frightened.”

I loved that I could hear her. I told her what had happened and she said, “I have to get back for my grand kids.”  And get back she did. Within seconds, her energetic body became animated; she snapped into a forward facing position and grabbed the cord connecting her to Earth.  Immediately upon doing this, the cord became thicker. It looked like twisted metal cabling which was as thick as my arm.

Cindy, with teeth gritted, began pulling herself back to Earth. Her astral travels were also having effects on her physical body. Her pupils became reactive to light; her brain scan showed promise.

But this rapid return was tiring for her. I watched as the cord grew thicker still and as Cindy paused to take a nap. When she awoke, it was with a new vigor; she was eager to get back to her body. Hand over hand, eyes focused directly on Earth (she never once looked back) and with grunts of exertion, she kept methodically going.

Her physical body was showing signs of this progress, too. She was coming out of her coma before the medical world was ready to have her do so. According to them, she had another full day before they would attempt to bring her out of the deep sleep. Cindy had other ideas. She left the hospital, on her own accord, just two days later.

I hadn’t consciously been thinking about writing this blog until a few days ago. Last night my Guys were insistent that I get ‘r done and in that, I inexplicably trust. For the person or persons who needed this (ahem!), I hope it brings you comfort.

Flu

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fluMy client had scheduled two Intuitive Reiki sessions back to back; one for her and one for her husband, whom I’d not professionally seen before. Her session began like any other but about two thirds of the way through it, an intensely beautiful archangel popped in.

I originally assumed he was there for my client but it turns out, he was there for me. His visage was breathtaking. I don’t even know how to adequately describe his looks.  He was beyond beautiful and my breath caught in my throat.

He was dressed as other archangels have been; no shirt, form fitting black leather-like pants and large black silken wings. His face though, oh my GOD, his face! It was something I could stare at all day long; a thing of great beauty. He had a straight patrician nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw, dark black eyebrows/lashes, riveting sapphire blue eyes and chiseled lips.

His thick, dark black wavy hair fell to his shoulders. His body was lean, powerful and muscular. His left leg was casually bent at the knee and his foot was resting on my wall. His beauty was so intensely stunning, I thought I would cry.

What set him apart from other archangels I’ve seen was his demeanor. He was somewhat impatient like an antsy teenager wanting to leave the company of an adult to be with his friends. His energy was powerful, confident and very, very saucy. This boy oozed animal magnetism and he was fully aware of his charm. Sweet JAYSUS, Lawd ha’ mercy! He was rakishly gorgeous.

I wasn’t expecting an archangel to just pop in during a client’s session. His angelic countenance caused me to take in a sudden whoosh of air and I could feel heat rising to my cheeks; I was blushing. Clearly I was startled and off balance and geez, Louise! a little warning next time?!

But in true Melissa form, I tried to act like I had game instead of a silly little school girl experiencing her first crush on an older man. I was like, “Oh, hey, dude. Hi. What’s up?”  To me, I thought I sounded nonchalant, airy and cool but I know my intuitive voice was high pitched, like I’d gotten caught doing something I didn’t want anyone else to know about. In a way I had, because he could hear everything I was thinking. Busted!

He said, “I’m here to give you an energy upgrade. Are you ready?”  I indignantly blurbled, “Now?! Psssssh. I’m with a client!” I was trying to buy myself some time to think. He didn’t respond but continued to gaze at me (gulp) so I stuttered, “Well, uhh, sure, I guess.” And then I found my strong and steady voice, “As long as it doesn’t negatively affect me or my client. I have another client after her and I have to be able to function. I’m going to trust that this energy is going to help both of them as well as me.”

He smiled again (oh dear GOD, why, WHY did he do that?!) and telepathically assured me this would be gentle. I looked forward again as if thinking about this (I wasn’t, I was just buying some time again) and then nodded my internal head. His perfect 7 foot frame was instantly standing behind me. He placed his large hands on my shoulders and I physically broke out in goose bumps.

Within seconds I heard, “You’ll feel pressure in your head” and before that sentence was fully finished, I felt pressure in my head, like a vice grip.  I physically shook my head trying to clear the pressure but it didn’t help. I heard, “It’ll pass” and sure enough, within seconds the pressure eased as did the shivers.  The whole upgrade was finished in about three minutes but I must say I wasn’t paying attention to the time. I was focusing on my client making sure she was OK with this new energy and she seemed to be resting peacefully.

The archangel didn’t stay around once his part was completed. I felt his hands lift off my shoulders and then he was gone. Well, gee. Was it good for you? Can I call you in the morning?  Humph. Cad. Rake. Rapscallion!

My client’s session ended and her husband’s began. His session was different from the get go. I couldn’t keep my energetic eyes off of him. I had never seen a person that energetically beautiful before.  His aura/energy captivated me and I felt drawn in; I wanted to know all about him.  I giggled and told him just that.  He, being older and very modest, said he didn’t know what he did to deserve this admiration.

When we went into session, my hands remained cold. Usually my hands are heating pad hot but I trusted that this was exactly what he needed.  As our session went on, my hands felt like they were getting even colder. I started shivering and my head had that weird vice grippy thing going on. I turned up the room’s heat.  My client was very warm to the touch but I was ice cold. What the hell?

His session ended and I told him this was the first time my hands remained ice cold during a treatment. He asked what that meant and I said it was neither here nor there, just an observation on my part as that had never happened in all the years I had used Reiki.

I went home that evening with off and on chills. The next day I awoke feeling like there was a fire in my upper chest and my head was being squished by a vice. I raised my eyes to the heavens and said, “If this is gentle, you Guys can kiss my ass!”  By the end of the day my skin hurt, my hair hurt, even my toenails hurt and I was super cranky. I internally said, with much less venom this time as it almost hurt to think, “You Guys! You said this would be gentle. This is NOT gentle. HELP ME!”

It was about then that I drug my carcass from the bed and looked up my symptoms. Was it possible I had the upper respiratory flu? Or WAS this the energy upgrade? I didn’t know and I didn’t hear an answer when I asked but I knew there were no coincidences.

One thing is for sure, I won’t play with fire next year. It’s either the flu shot or if a devilishly handsome archangel shows up wanting to upgrade my energy with promises that it will be gentle, I’ll check for horns and a tail.

Mahalum

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She’s been coming to see, off and on, for years. She is an artist, a painter, a writer, a photographer. She earns her living by marketing for a local non-profit. Our Intuitive Reiki sessions are often filled with whimsical colors that she often incorporates into her art.

I love our sessions; she is never demanding and always respectful. She is understanding of my limits and accepts that I don’t have all the answers. She recognizes the worth of Reiki and she delights in my “humanness.”  Our sessions have been nothing short of reverent.

She is, thankfully, the poster child for the norm in my Intuitive Reiki business. I’m writing about her, specifically, because of something that caused my jaw to drop to the floor. I could be writing about any of my clients as I’ve had these moments before. But this one? This one left me shaken in a crikey, Scoob! kind of way.

When she entered my office she said she felt like a bird in a cage. She wanted some direction as to what she should do next. As she was telling me this I heard the word, “book” so when she finished I told her just that. Her hazel eyes misted over, she smiled and her hand went to her upper chest. She said she SO wants to write a book. I tilted my head and smiled a little “well, there you go” smile.

Our session began like any other. As is often the case, the Guys love to pepper her sessions with some inanity. They recently told her not to walk away from an impulse buy or she would regret it. They tell her she’s taking life to seriously; she needs more laughter. They tell her to urge her daughter to reconsider how she’s wearing her hair in her wedding. Yes, seriously.

I chuckle at this stuff, but it’s no secret my angels deal with the spiritual so each one of these seemingly trivial things is designed for my client to grow/heal spiritually. My client gets that and doesn’t dismiss these lighter toned messages.

The energy changed to all business when I quit channeling and began delivering pure Reiki to the top of her head. I heard that this session wasn’t going to be as relaxing as her previous sessions; it would be more intense. I relayed this information to her and as is her usual, she accepted it with grace.

It’s not often anymore that I’m led to telepathically infuse the Reiki symbols during a session but this time I was. Sort of. I began with the first two symbols you learn in Reiki II and then I heard, “Mahalum.”  Whaaa? That’s not a Reiki symbol. What is THAT? Mahalo? Mahalum? I shrugged my shoulders, mentally cleared my mind and tried again. I repeated the two accepted healing symbols and when it was time for me intone the sequential third, I once again heard, “Mahalum.”

Well, what the WHAT?! Mahalum? What IS that? I had no idea but went with it. As is the standard, I repeated the name of the two symbols again and then “Mahalum” was again inserted.  I thought it was just so odd as you don’t muck with the Reiki symbols. Ever. I have great respect for these symbols as they are powerful little things. To just throw a “Mahalum” in there floored me.

After her session ended, I looked up Mahalum in my trusty 1986 dictionary. Hummm… Mahalum. Nope, nothing and that’s normally where I’d leave it. But something was “encouraging” me to look further. I typed, “Mahalum” into my search engine and nothing came up in the drop down box.

I left it at that and talked some more with my client but it was still bugging me. My client said it would come up for her somewhere in some unexpected way. She was fine with that but I picked up my phone again and entered, “Mahalum” and this time I pressed the magnifying glass (search) button and don’t you know, low and behold, there was information on this word. It was in Hindi so I had it translated to English and my eyes, which have spiritually seen so much, become as large as the eyes of an owl.

My jaw hit the floor. I looked at her and then back to the google search results. I read the answer again and then I looked up at her slightly shaking my head in disbelief. I managed to stammer a very unprofessional, “Holy SHIT! You are NOT going to believe this!” before my mouth fell open again. I was having so much trouble coming to grips with what I was reading.

While I was getting my freak out on, she calmly sat leaning forward in her chair and didn’t say a word. She knew I’d get there eventually and no worry crossed her face. She patiently gazed at me as she had a hundred times.

I stammered again, “You, uhhh, you are NOT going to believe this. Ok. Ok” as if I was talking myself into doing something. Yes, that was how astounded I was at what I was reading and how deeply my intuitive abilities sometimes flat out flabbergast me. I looked at her, took a deep breath and said, “Mahalum is Hindi for “to write.”

book

Misty

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She was the first person I saw as I rushed through my office building doors. She captivated my attention instantly. My first thought of her was, “gypsy” and I heard, “whimsical.” My second thought was that she was incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to go to her instantly and hug her but instead I stayed connected to her by staring into her eyes.

She was dressed in all black. Her beautiful, dark, lustrous hair was piled loosely in a disheveled bun on the top of her head.  I found that this style added to her mystique. She smiled a broad, welcoming smile that was inviting.

Misty was there because it was right; it was finally time. She had looked into taking my Reiki I class last fall and it just hadn’t worked out. She tried to talk herself out of this class the week prior but she worked through it and now was one of my six students.

Misty has a kindness about her; an intrigue. She hides her vulnerability behind a smile that draws you in but when you look at her eyes you see the sadness reflected there if you know where to look. She is gentle, engaging, hospitable and kind. She is a mother to three young boys. She is a wife.

But look closely and you’ll see she has become much older mentally than her physical age belies. Misty is exhausted. She is terrified. She is angry. She is grieving. She is in insurmountable pain. She is in a constant state of high anxiety.

Misty hides this part of herself like you would hide a deep, sacred secret. She’s not one to let others know her pain as she doesn’t want to burden them nor does she want to be a burden.  Unfortunately for her (or maybe fortunately?) she is now in a room full of Empaths and Intuitives. And if you’ll pardon the expression, I’d like to give a nod to the recently completed Shark Week, she was like a drop of blood in a room full of highly astute (nurse) sharks.

I began class and as is my practice, I asked what brings everyone to me. When it is her turn to talk, she instantly tears up and then apologizes for it. I pooh pooh the tears and tell her they are welcome here. Always. Others are on the brink of tears, too. One sweet lady, who hasn’t yet discovered she is Intuitive or Empathic, makes fun of her own tears in an effort to cope.

Misty weaves a short story of what finally brought her to me and at the end she allows us a glimpse of her inner pain. She tells us about her husband who is her everything. This is the man she has chosen to have children with, the one she doesn’t want to live without and the one who was recently diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.

When we reach the part of class where we scan through the energy (auric field) of the person laying on the Reiki table, I brace myself. It was Misty’s turn to be scanned and to receive Reiki.

I mentally took a deep breath and held it. I physically slammed my eyes shut thinking I could keep out what I was about to intuitively see. Pshaw. As if. I outwardly winced and I remember thinking, “You’re teaching a class here. You can’t fall to pieces. Just get through it. Go.” I knew scanning her energetic/auric body was going to be filled with emotional land mines, tortured thoughts and abysmal pain but I wasn’t even close to being prepared.

I felt it all. I felt the anger, the panic, the anxiety, the constant worry, the injustice, the sleep deprivation, the bargaining and the overwhelming anguish. I felt it all. From her head to her toes in just four seconds. I felt all of that.

I tried not to let on what I had just sensed, felt and knew out of respect for her and my students. I prayed nobody heard me raggedly inhale and exhale an audible breath. But we were in a room full of intuitive ladies who just wanted to help others heal so I’m not sure how successful I was. I do know I couldn’t make eye contact with any of my students as I was afraid they’d see what I had just learned.

Jodi was next to scan Misty’s auric field. I silently begged her not to do it but she is ballsy and not one to back down from anything energetic. She began scanning and made it to Misty’s heart/chest area when her direct, light blue gaze filled with tears. She stopped, blinked her eyes and shook out her hands and arms. Like someone stunned, she took a deep breath and tried again; same response.

I watched, unblinkingly, as she tried a third time. Her hands/arms hovered and shook over Misty’s heart area and my own heart went out to her. Jodi’s surprised eyes once again filled with tears and this time, she stepped away from Misty. She shook her hands and arms as if she had just received an electric shock. She looked directly at me and apologetically and softly said she couldn’t do it; she couldn’t get through (Misty’s auric body).  I nodded with understanding.

My five newly attuned Reiki I students and I took up our places around the prone Misty. I, as always, encouraged my student to go to a spot where their intuition led them. I noticed all but one of them were at her upper body. Sounds about right.

I had placed my hands on her left leg and I found myself gently and softly rocking her lower leg. Across from me was another student. She is a woman whose energy was so maternal and calming that I found myself petting her arm earlier in class. She was lightly stroking Misty’s right leg.

And then it happened.

Sweet Misty, the woman who was trying to hold it all together so her children weren’t frightened, so that her husband wouldn’t be scared and so that she could function, let out a keening, mewling, guttural noise that came from deep within her. It was filled with a pain so deep that I can’t even begin to dignify or quantify it. It was filled with her fear; fear of being on her own, fear of losing her beloved husband, fear for her children and fear of being financially bereft.

One amazing young-but-old student leaned over Misty and did what I couldn’t do; she softly whispered, “Let it out” and Misty did. The keening turned into deep, gut-wrenching sobs and I believe each one of us felt her silent, private and deeply personal pain.

I had been holding back tears all day (I know, I know!! I was just afraid of looking – gasp – unprofessional! Oh the horror!) and I couldn’t do it anymore. Her cries were so feral, sooooooo visceral that I had a hard time not falling to my knees.  I closed my eyes to give her some privacy and tears rolled down my cheeks. We were all experiencing something profoundly miserable and yet beautiful; one of us was releasing deep pain and starting the healing process.

Misty’s release didn’t last long. I could feel when her healing began. I could feel when she released what she needed to and embraced what she wanted to. I could feel her allowing us to give back to her and I could feel her accepting our help.

Misty gave up five hours to be with us in order to learn Reiki. Those precious five hours could have been spent with her husband. She split up her three children with different caretakers in order to be sure they were taken care of. She raced home during our lunch break just to be sure her husband had eaten. She did all of this because she felt so strongly about attending this class.

There are no coincidences. You get that, right? And the Guys constantly tell us, via their channeled messages, that we are ALL one. These amazing women had all come together not only to learn the ancient healing art of Usui Reiki, but to help one of their own; their sister. It humbles me to be so very aware of this.

I was deeply touched by Misty’s grace, her love for her husband/family, her plight and the raw emotion I felt on so many levels. I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t personally touched me. In fact, I went home and hugged my own beloved, healthy, warm and strong husband a little bit longer. And then I hugged him again, a little bit tighter. And then I decided it wasn’t such a big deal if he occasionally leaves a light on or wears his shoes inside.

I bet Misty would give anything to have her husband do just that for the next 50 years.

.

(If it feels right, please join me in sending prayers/energy to Misty and her family. I’d ask that you intend for the energy/prayers to help with all that is for their highest good instead of directing them to heal.)

Dick

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I have a client whose deceased husband has been coming to her sessions, almost without fail, for about two years.  Their love for each other has clearly transcended boundaries and it continues even while one of them is no longer in human form.

Dick is a joy to communicate with. Sometimes he is quiet and takes everything in, other times he is all smiles and eager to talk.  Sometimes he does energy work on his wife right alongside of (or through) me and sometimes he lets me have the floor.

He is respectful, courteous and polite and has a fabulously dry sense of humor which brings happy tears to his wife’s blue eyes.

He shows up in human form or as the color orange. Sometimes I don’t see him but he telepathically talks to me. Sometimes he shares quips about his life with his beloved and sometimes he tells me information about the spiritual realm.

In life, Dick was a scientist and a professor which made him naturally analytical/logical. He preferred to do things that didn’t involve people. His wife, on the other hand, loves helping people and Dick didn’t understand this need. He also didn’t believe in his wife’s ‘hunches’ and he most certainly would never have given Reiki or channeled messages the time of day.

But now, in death, he tells me he has been ‘awakened.’

Last month, right around the time we were learning about downed air crafts, Dick briefly popped into session and seemed excited but worn-out and rushed. This was a far cry from his normal calming, sedate and respectful manner. It was kind of as if he was overwhelmed with the enormity of something.

He said he couldn’t stay as he had a lot of work to do. He said he and others were helping newly deceased souls find Home.  He popped in and out of my client’s session that day. He was clearly torn; he really wanted to be with his wife and to have me communicate his words, but he had obligations elsewhere.

During my client’s most recent session, Dick returned and he was enthusiastically excited.  He said he has been tasked to work with people. He, and others, were helping souls leave their physical body and return to energy, just like him. He told his wife he didn’t realize how tiring dealing with emotions could be. His wife of 40 years laughed and said that dealing with emotions was NOT his specialty. She found comfort in the knowledge he was learning to do so.

Up until Dick’s recent communication, I thought once you died and became a soul you’d live on Heaven’s easy street. You know, nothing to do because it was already done. You were free from all pain, you took a vacation from all this spiritual learning crap and you played golf/cards or fished/napped all day until you reincarnated. But Dick’s revelations about his continued learning left me questioning all of what I thought.

Dick knew what I was thinking because my brain was instantly flooded with a whole bunch of telepathic information concerning this. For instance, I knew Dick was helping individuals who died en masse by guiding their ascending souls from earth.  I knew it wasn’t just Dick doing this; it was a large group or ‘pocket’ of entities (200 or so) who had banded together to help and they’re very happy doing so.

I learned that once you physically die your work or maybe more appropriately, what you need to work ON, doesn’t stop. You are given opportunities to learn and grow by taking, ummm, let’s call them classes.  As is the case with Dick, he was given the opportunity to spiritually advance – after his physical death – by learning about and dealing with the complexities of human emotions.  The last piece of knowledge I remember is that there are literally thousands of courses you could enroll in.

After our session ended, it once again occurred to me how fantastic this gift of communicating with the deceased (and the Ascended) is.  It also, once again, reminded me of how limited my human brain is.  I believe strongly at one point my brain knew all of this information as I had literally been there and done that.  But in order to not overload the circuits, I (we, really) had to forget some stuff so we could eat, drink and be merry.

I love these sessions with my client and her deceased husband. It reminds me that there IS more out there, that love doesn’t stop just because one person has left the physical plane (right, Angie?) and that death ISN’T the end.

How fabulous is that?

IET

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What’s IET? It’s Integrated Energy Therapy. Ok, so what’s Integrated Energy Therapy? The long and the short of it is IET is energy work that is specifically designed to help heal emotions, negative beliefs and/or karmic problems.

My friend Shannon performs IET and told me it was created by a Reiki Master so there are a lot of similarities to Reiki. IET differs because it specifically uses a cellular release/imprint method as well as 9 Healing angels. During my session, Shannon explained she’d be using trigger points to release the old and imprint the new. A couple examples of this would be to say, release heartache from the heart and imprint it with love or release fear from the kidneys and imprint safety. She told me how, in IET, angels were associated with different parts of your body (i.e. throat, heart, liver, kidneys, etc.) and would assist with each clearing/imprinting.

I expected this to be a lot like Body Talk where there is a continuous dialog between myself and the practitioner. I also thought I’d be an active participant by saying affirmations with each release.  That was not the case (for my session, anyway) and I kind of liked the silence. I found myself internally repeating, “I easily release all that is no longer for my highest good.”

As with Reiki, I was fully clothed and lying on a massage table. I was peacefully floating along and feeling the gentle energy course through my body. While Shannon was at my throat area, I had an interesting physical reaction. My heartbeat increased, my breathing became shallow and I felt something close to panic. My eyes fluttered open and I said, “Shanny. I’m having a very physical reaction to what you’re doing” and I told her my symptoms. She said she was currently releasing trauma or shame from my throat area. 

I didn’t know what this trauma or shame was about but I once again internally repeated, “It is safe for me to let go all that which is no longer for my highest good.”  I did not have a reaction like this again, although I did have a boat load of deep inhalations/exhalations, some leg/foot twitches and a weird on again/off again itchy sensation in the palm of my right hand.

Once our session was finished, Shannon said memories or ‘stuff’ might come up for me to examine.  Boy howdy! I didn’t have to wait long. My first painful memory was about two hours after our session. I was minding my own business, doing my own thing when whammo!  At the time, I didn’t know what this was about as I hadn’t thought about this person or the event in years.   Then another memory not 24 hours later and this one was even more painful and happened years prior to the first one. Upon reflection, both these memories harbored shame and betrayal.

Why did I schedule an IET session in the first place? Because I wanted to see if it would help me get rid of my processed sugar cravings and help me break the addiction cycle. This was also my intention when I went into session so I know the return of these shelved memories are somehow tied to my addiction. 

One of the websites I researched said all the clearing/imprinting is done while IN session so a client doesn’t have to do any ‘work’ once they leave the session. But for me, I found myself examining these memories with a different set of eyes. I was left wondering why I hadn’t let the pain/shame/betrayal associated with them go as I believed I had. Perhaps these memories briefly reappeared to let me know the trauma surrounding them is leaving. Only time will tell.

(Melissa’s Note: Want more info on IET? You can contact, Shannon via FB or click on the website link above).

Exit

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“Dad?” I asked, “Can you see the angel at the foot of your bed, standing by the wall?” He said he couldn’t but I could and what I saw made me nervous.

My dad was succumbing to the cancer that was eating him alive. He was in a hospital bed and I was sitting with him. The ‘old’ me never would have asked my highly logical and unspiritual dad if he could see an angel. I mean, HELLO! Looney bin?! But I wasn’t the ‘old’ me any longer and my dad was dying, literally, in front of me.

When dad first told me he was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer, I adamantly denied this. I ‘saw’ a white spot inside his shoulder and told him it wasn’t cancer, as cancer would be black. I kept saying, “It’s not cancer. You don’t have cancer” and he would quietly respond, “Yes, I do.”

When I asked my Guys (Guardian Angels) about this, they told me it WASN’T cancer. They said the medical community didn’t know how to classify this and with all things unknown, they lumped them into the cancer category. Whether this is true or not, I don’t know.

My sister, brother and I would tag team taking care of dad until it was no longer possible for him to live in the house he wanted to die in. Through all of this, dad was open to me giving him Reiki and would often request it as he said it helped with the overall pain and with the burning sensation from his radiation treatments.

So when I glanced up from my dad’s hospital bed and saw an angel all in black, I became frightened. Nothing about his demeanor was frightening, though. He was casually posed with his back against the wall. One of his legs was bent and his foot was resting on the wall. He had jet black, silky wings, dark hair, light skin and black eyes (no white sclera’s). He was incredibly handsome and had a powerful, yet calming, presence.

I didn’t sense animosity or evil but because Hollywood has depicted black as malevolent, I was afraid he was there to harm my dad. I became even more protective of my father and telepathically said, ‘You’re not welcome here. You need to leave. Now.’ When I looked again, the angel had complied with my wish. He was gone and I was  shaking.

A few days later, when my dad was no longer able to breathe without assistance and his heart was the only organ that was still unfailingly functioning, I saw this angel again. His demeanor had changed though. Previously it felt like he was just observing or seeing how things were going. This time, his head was bent and his hands were clasped in front of him. It looked as if he was paying his respects or mourning with us.

I knew then that this angel wasn’t there to harm my dad. He was there to take my dad Home. Maybe I knew that when he first made an appearance but I didn’t want to believe it. I am an eternal optimist and believed my dad, through a miracle, could/would get better almost up until the point his heart quit beating.

As us three kids sat around our father’s hospital bed, my dad died.  I wouldn’t have known it physically, but I happened to look up and saw a see-through version of my dad standing at the foot of his bed. The angel stood behind and slightly to the side of him.

The image of my dad was that of a man who was much younger; he was in his early forties. He was wearing a black suit with a thin black tie and a white shirt. His head was bowed and his hands were clasped. It felt like my dad, too, was paying his respects. It all felt very somber.

I glanced back at the physical body my dad’s soul inhabited for 84 years. He was no longer there. I again looked at the astral version of my dad and he WAS still there. A sad, peaceful smile formed on my face. I was overcome with relief that my dad was no longer in agony and he was going somewhere where there was no pain and lots of fabulous golf courses. I also knew his pain had ended and mine had just begun. I took so much comfort and felt infinitely blessed being able to see what I did with my intuitive sight.

Dad didn’t look up, not once. He kept his stance of respect until I could no longer see him. I intuitively said, “Dad? I love you. PLEASE let me know when you’ve made it.”

About five months later, I was sitting in our campsite, alone. Trinity was fishing and I was reading a book. I looked up and saw my dad. He was dressed in some hideous checkered golf shorts from the late 70’s and a white golf shirt. He was sitting on a log about 4 feet in front of me. I excitedly and yet casually said, “Hi daddy!” He, ever a man of few words said, “Well, you asked me to tell you when I made it.  I made it. So, I guess that’s it. I’ll bring your mother with me next time.”  I said, “Ok, daddy. I love you” and he replied, “Yep. Guess I love you, too. Well, I’m off then.”  And once again, he was gone. This time though, with his departure, I felt comfort and peace instead of sorrow and loss.