I saw her in my peripheral vision as she sat on my couch as though an invited guest. Surprised, I spun to face her and watched 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 had hurried to our bedroom to drop my purchases. What I saw stopped me in my tracks: a thick layer of plant pearls scattered across white carpet like a puddle of blood. Fear hammered a blow to the chest and my heart raced. The delicate plant had to be shaken or knocked into to release so many beads. Was there an intruder in the house hiding somewhere? I began to retrace my steps, careful not to make a sound. As I stepped quietly backward, I caught a glimpse of a fairy figurine in the mirror over our dresser. Something wasn’t right. And then I realized it was backward. It had been turned. Gooseflesh raced along my arms. Someone had been there, but the house was empty.
Although I knew the answer, I 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 purposely. You know what that means. 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, I replied, “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.
“Hello, Nita. Ingrid died two days ago. They think it was an aneurism.”
Ingrid was his older sister with whom I had worked and been 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.
“I knew I was supposed to call you,” he said, “because when I got the call about her, out of nowhere, I flashed on the picture of you and Ingrid at work standing together at the end of the bar. Remember that?”
“Yes,” I smiled, “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. The first time it happened, a stranger manifested in the corner of my room. His energy felt frantic. It took a few seconds before I realized that he was talking to me. His words were extremely fast and it was difficult to follow at first. I grabbed a pen and paper and began to write.
“My son found me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know it would happen. I’m so sorry.”
He shared some experiences of his life, relationships, regrets, and legal documents his family hadn’t known about. The information came in words, mental pictures and emotional energy that washed over me in waves and connected us. In this way, he showed me who he was.
I did not know the man but my friend, Wendy, did. We had planned on meeting that morning when she called and said, “I can’t meet for coffee this morning. Wayne’s father died. He was found face down in his driveway. Dead. I have to go over to their house. It’s just awful.”
“Wendy, I think he was just at my house. The soul body that was here just died. He told me that his son found him and that they’d had an argument moments before. He also told me his mom and sister were there to help him transition. Does that sound like him? Are his mom and sister on the other side?”
“Oh my God. Nita. That is so crazy. Yes, that sounds like Bones. That’s what we call him.”
I asked, “Can you take this information to his family? I can’t call and say, ‘Hi, I’m the psychic across town and your husband was just here.’ I feel really awkward about the whole thing.”
“Yes,” she said. “I will.”
Since then 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 for some my ability seems amazing and they say, “How can you do it? How can you see them, hear them?” And I say, “How can you not?” I know of no other way to be. For me, it has always been. I didn’t learn it. I was born this way.