Skipping Graduation (conclusion)

[Part II of II]

I filled Mark in on my visit with Billy, and true to his word, Mark accepted every word with an open mind and open heart.  He was able to confirm the following information from my reading with Billy.

• The outfit Billy was wearing when I saw him (shorts, t-shirt, beat-up boat shoes) was a pretty classic look for him in casual moments.
• The language Billy used was also spot-on. He had a notoriously filthy mouth in life.
• Billy was also a heavy smoker, which explains the scratchy tone of his voice.
• As I saw in my vision, Billy was in a bar before he died. I asked Mark if he’d had a heart attack (since I “felt” nauseous and sick), and he confirmed that he may have actually died of a drug overdose (which is why Billy said to me, “What was that sh*t?”). He was in fact in a bar shortly before his death, then he went home and died there, as I saw.
• Billy did, in fact, have two teenaged daughters.
• I don’t think Mark ever figured out which baseball cap Billy was referring to, so he’ll take that information with him.
• Billy’s mother did die a few years ago (as my Guides confirmed), but he had a very contentious relationship with her and often spoke of her as though she were still alive.
• Billy had a girlfriend, and Mark confirmed that it was a new relationship and not very serious.

I have to admit, even I was amazed by the information that I received during this reading.  But Mark and I remained concerned that Billy wasn’t at rest.  He asked if I would schedule another reading a few days later, and invited some of Billy’s good friends to attend. What transpired was an incredibly special experience for me, and I believe it was for them, as well.

About 30 minutes before my scheduled phone reading with Billy’s friends, I reconnected with Billy. I found him in a much better place than I had when we spoke three days earlier:

Me:  How’s it going, Billy?

Billy:  Better. This “dead thing” is weird, though. It’s hard to see people so miserable. I did that…it was an accident. I f*cked up.  Like I always did–just this time was the big f*ck-up.

We talked for a while, and Billy gave me some messages for his friends regarding his youngest daughter–the concerns of a father who was worried about his little girl growing up too fast. He was also concerned about the fate of his business.

When his friends called several minutes later, they were all gathered around the phone across the country, and I was in Boston with Billy. They had prepared a list of questions for their beloved pal.

One of his friends was concerned that Billy’s death wasn’t an accident, and Billy confirmed that his death hadn’t been intentional.

He asked his friends to check in on his girls from time-to-time. They promised him that they would do so, and that they would make sure his youngest daughter received a very specific message about her behavior in the future.  He also had loving messages for their mother, his ex-wife.

Billy continued to have concerns about his business.  As I listened to him talk about it, I kept hearing him repeat the word, “Tool, tool, tool.”  I decided to check in with his friends.

“Billy wants to talk to you about his work,” I said. “Did he run his own business, and does the word ‘tool’ mean anything to you?”

On the other end of the phone, I heard laughter. “He ran a Tool & Dye Company,” they informed me.

“Well,” I told them, “Billy’s concerned that there will be some legal problems related to closing up this business.” His friends confirmed that this was, in fact, the case.  ”Is there a union involved?” I asked, going on Billy’s direction.

“Yes,” they confirmed.

“Billy would like you to know that he wants all of his employees to have their benefits taken care of, and he wants to make sure that their families are OK. He says to make sure they’ve got the union’s support.”

His friends assured him that they would make sure this happened. 

Billy’s sense of humor was also in full swing. When I shared with his friends that Billy’s appearance was considerably cleaned up from the first time we’d met, one of his friends laughed and wryly commented, “It’s about time.”

“F*ck you, Joan,” he snapped back with a laugh and a smirk.

“That wasn’t Joan, it was Karen,” corrected his friends on the other line.

“Yeah, well f*ck you, too!” Billy retorted. This got a huge laugh out of the group.

One of his friends wanted to know if he was OK.  “I’m great, baby,” Billy assured her. “Just didn’t want it to be this way.”

Another friend asked if Billy could come visit him. “I already did,” he reassured her. “I was there last night.”

One by one, Billy’s friends sent their love and told him how grateful they were for his friendship. For me, it was an amazing experience to be able to provide closure to a group of people who had lost their friend at such a young age, in such a tragic fashion.

Happily, Billy also received his closure.  After we said goodbye to his friends, I asked Billy if he was ready to move on.  He confirmed that yes, he was ready to cross to the Other Side.  When I last saw him, he was walking toward a bright light, surrounded by loved ones, his countenance brighter and clearer than when we’d first met.

For Billy, Graduation Day had finally come.

 

Skipping Graduation

[Part I of II]

As I shared in other posts, I determined that if I was going to hear from people’s dead grandmothers on a semi-regular basis, I owed it to them and to myself to learn something about my abilities.  My practice has continued to be a nearly daily routine over the past two years, first and foremost by making sure to take the time each morning to light a white candle and to connect with my Guides.

If you’re interested in developing your intuitive abilities, I highly recommend Sonia Choquette’s Ask Your Guides and Echo Bodine’s The Gift.  Both include very practical steps and guided meditations that will help you to tune into your own innate gifts–something that I truly believe that all of us can do.  In fact, about two years ago Helena and I began teaching classes and holding forums in our community in Philadelphia, and it was exciting to see our friends and neighbors putting their newfound abilities into daily practice.

Since you’ve enjoyed the stories I’ve told about those who have “graduated,” I’ll share this very special one with you. I’m telling it with the permission of the friends and family of the man who reached out to me, and I’m using a pseudonym to protect his identity.

This connection happened just this past January when I was living in a temporary apartment in Boston.  I’d sat down to check in on my friends on Facebook, and as I sat down to read through people’s status updates, I noticed that a friend had posted that his childhood friend had died the day before.

As I always do when I hear news like this, I said a prayer and asked my Guides if the man’s soul was at rest.  I received an immediate “NO,” something that surprised me because I’d never received that answer before. I said a prayer asking that he would be able to make the transition peacefully and soon.

I logged out of Facebook and was working my way through the breakfast dishes when “Billy” (as I’ll call him here) appeared. He was wearing shorts, a grubby t-shirt, and boat shoes.  He immediately struck me as a gregarious and friendly guy.

“Hey!” he called. “What is this place?”  He was wandering around a dark and empty place, and I could see that he was peering into the light-filled doorway that was my apartment.

“Do you know where you are?” I asked him.

“No!” he called. “What’s going on here?”

When you're sensing unwanted energies, envision a big steel door rolling down from floor to ceiling between you and that energy.

He was very insistent, so I asked Billy to wait until I was able to finish washing up.  When he continued to persist, I envisioned a big steel door coming down between us, a “psychic tool” that helps to protect the energy of the person reading. This allowed me to finish up the dishes and to prepare myself for connection.  As I shared in earlier posts, whenever I do this work, I always light a white candle and ask that all information comes from a place of the highest vibration–from God.

About 30 minutes later, I went to a quiet place in my apartment to connect with Billy.  I knew nothing about him, other than that he had passed away the night before.  That was all I had to go on.  The transcript below includes my conversation with Billy.  My additional commentary is included in italics.

(First, I introduced myself to Billy as a friend of his friend Mark’s. When Billy began speaking, the first thing I noticed that was that he had a very scratchy voice, like he’d been a smoker.)

Billy:  Mark’s awesome. Just an awesome guy. Even if he does eat that weird sh*t (laughing, coughing, sounds like a smoker’s cough.  I then got the sense that he regretting saying this, like he was a little embarrassed by what he’d said. Mark is also a raw foodist, which is why Billy might have said this).

Me:  Do you know why you’re here?

Billy:  Uh, not really. Weird. What IS this place?

Me:  Do you remember what happened?

Billy:  Yeah, I guess. I was just hangin’ out (I could see a bar with a TV in the corner), and then I felt like sh*t, and then the pain. (I felt nauseous at this point, and I could see that Billy was sweating)  F*ck, man—that hurt.

Me:  And then?

Billy:  And then—I don’t know. I blacked out, I guess. F*cked me up. What the f*ck WAS that sh*t? (At this point, I saw the image of a dark apartment or house with low ceilings, Billy in the kitchen. The house was very dark, messy. There was an ashtray on a table with cigarettes in it).

Me:  Were you alone?

Billy:  Yeah. No—I don’t remember.

Me:  Do you understand where you are now?

Billy:  (pauses, seems to remember). F*ck.  Am I dead?

At this point, Billy appeared to struggle. I worked with my guides and his guides to calm him as he adjusted to this knowledge. He was literally physically fighting them, but eventually he became calmer and more subdued.

Billy:  Tell Mark he can have my hat. (bluish-grey baseball cap, beat-up looking with whitish writing on the front. I didn’t get the sense that this hat would necessarily have any special meaning, just that Billy wanted Mark to know that he was thinking of him. It could be symbolic of something else).

Me:  Do you understand where you are?

Billy:  Yeah, I guess I bit it. (Here, he seemed to be remembering what happened). Sh*t, the girls. My girls. They’re so young. A kid shouldn’t have to go through this. Aw, sh*t—this sucks. And I didn’t leave ‘em anything. They can have the house—what’s left of it. My mom’s gonna want it, but it needs to go to the kids. That’s serious.

Note:  There was something about this that didn’t resonate with me. I checked in with my guides to ask if his mother was still alive and they said no—but it was almost as if he still believed that she was alive and would have something to say about what he chose to do with his possessions.

Me:  Can you please leave a sign or give us some details so that your family will know that it’s you?

Billy:  (Looking around the messy house, at the cigarette butts.) Just my hat, I guess (referring to baseball cap above). Just tell the girls I’m sorry I abandoned them. I wanted to make it right.

Me:  I’ll tell them—I’ll let Mark know.  I’ll also offer to Mark and your girls, and maybe your girlfriend (here, he sort of waved me off, saying, “Nah, that was new—it wasn’t serious.”)  I’ll offer to be available if they’d like to connect again. Would you like that?

Billy:  Sure—yeah. I mean, that would be cool.

Me:  Until then, please find some peace. You can move on whenever you’re ready.

Billy:  OK. Whatever. I don’t know about that.

Here, I sensed that Billy had ambivalence about crossing over. Not that he was afraid of what was next—more that he wasn’t convinced that something better was waiting. I didn’t sense that he feared condemnation or anything like that—just that he wasn’t ready to leave. I said a prayer for him and asked for peace as he worked through these challenges. 

I included this later in my note to Billy’s friend Mark:

Typically when I connect with someone who has just passed on, they speak to me from their “soul level,” not from the level of the personality. Billy was clearly still operating out of his current physical form. He seemed disoriented and lacked some of the perspective that recently deceased souls tend to have. I believe this is because he left his body so quickly and was unprepared for his death. To be honest, I haven’t experienced this before. I would be open to doing an additional reading to help him move forward, because it is clear to me that he’s lingering and not ready to cross over.

After saying a prayer and asking my Guides to work with Billy during this time, I picked up the phone and called Mark.

“Mark, how open-minded are you?” I asked.

“You won’t find many who are more open-minded than I am,” he responded. “What’s up?”

I ventured a bit timidly:  “Would you believe me if I told you that I can talk to dead people, and I’ve been visiting with your friend Billy?”

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “I would.”