Uninvited Guests

                                                              Uninvited Guests

I saw her in my peripheral vision sitting on my couch, an invited guest. Surprised, I spun to face her as her form disappeared. Was this who had been disrupting things around the house the last couple of days?

The disruptions began the day before. Arms full from shopping, I hurried to our bedroom to unload. What I saw stopped me in my tracks: a thick layer of plant pearls scattered across white carpet like a puddle of blood. Fear drove adrenalin to my heart. The delicate plant had to be shaken or knocked into to release so many beads. Was there an intruder in the house?

 I retraced my steps quietly. As I stepped backward, I glimpsed a fairy figurine in the mirror over our dresser. Something wasn’t right. I realized it was backward. It had been turned. Gooseflesh raced along my arms. Someone had been there, but the house was empty.

 I knew the answer, but asked my husband, Dylan, if he had bumped the plant and not had time to clean it up.

“No,” he said. “Why?”

I didn’t answer and asked, “How about my fairy. Did you move her?”

“No. What’s up?”  

“There’s activity in the house again. Things out of place. Someone is trying to get my attention.”

After twenty some years of marriage to a clairvoyant-medium, Dylan was accustomed to such events. He asked, “Do you know who it is?”

“No, not yet.”

There was no doubt about it, someone who had passed wanted me to know. A couple of hours later the phone rang. Christian, an old friend, came to the point quickly.

“Nita. Ingrid died two days ago. They think it was an aneurism.”

Ingrid was his older sister with whom I was friends with some twenty-five years ago.

“Oh, Christian. I’m so sorry. I believe she has been here. I couldn’t figure out who it was. Now I know.” I told him the story.

He said, “I knew I was supposed to call you, because when I got the call about her, out of nowhere, I saw a picture of you and Ingrid at work standing together at the end of the bar. Remember that?”

“Yes, I do.”

Later that day, Ingrid showed up again so that I could take down a message to her family.

I’ve seen energy forms from as far back as I can remember, but taking messages came later. I have taken many messages for many families. There has always been some connection that links me in some way with the families though it can be distant. I also have soul bodies who I see and hear that give me messages which I can never deliver because I don’t know their people. This is the reality of my life.

There are varied opinions and reactions to my truth. Some believe that it’s all in my head. Others cry with gratitude and relief when they hear the words of their loved ones. Words they recognize that their person would have said. I know of no other way to be. For me, it has always been. I didn’t learn it. I was born this way.