First off, my apologies dear readers for the length of time between posts… my bad. I was intensely focused on the advice column I was writing for a month as part of Sun Media and Canoe’s contest. Nope, didn’t win, but in life I’ve found it’s the things you don’t do that bring regrets, not the ones that fall under… “nothing ventured, nothing gained”. I’m rather proud of myself for the effort and thankful to all those who called me “a natural” when it comes to giving advice in column format. As a medium, positivity coach and speaker, my job often involves providing guidance along the paths of life, as well as bridging communication between our world and the Other Side. This true story falls under the latter category.
Spirit folks can and do go to extraordinary lengths to let their living loved ones know they are still with them. They continue to help us in our lives and they love us, even through the glass that seperates our two worlds. It’s not really a glass partition, but I use this analogy to explain to clients how their deceased relatives are waving and trying to get their attention… but they can’t see them on the other side of this mystical divide. In order to reach us, spirits will cause things to happen to facilitate communication. One day I went out for my usual walk along the beltline near my home. Suddenly an old friend who I’d lost touch with ten years ago, rode past me on his bike. He stopped. I stopped and we caught up on old times. Promising to get together soon, we both went our seperate ways. As often happens when intentions don’t match actions, we never did do lunch. But I was soon to discover that this was no ordinary “chance meeting”. About a month later, we passed again on the same beltline, Peter on his bike, me on foot. We stopped briefly to say hi, again with discussions of lunch, including his mom, who had asked about me recently. I really like Petey’s (as I used to call him) mom, so was looking forward to it. Again never happened, though Peter admitted he’d dropped the ball that time. We bumped into each other no less than two more times (four total for those keeping track!) on the same beltline and by now I knew that this was happening for a reason. I’d expressed that to my found-again friend, even telling him what I do for a living, but he’s a brilliant song writer who’s pretty busy. When it happened again this past Monday – I’d stopped to tie my shoe and he nearly ran me over, this time I wasn’t letting him go without a longer chat. Forces were working awfully hard to get us together!
As we walked, his dad suddenly came through strongly, telling me “his father, I’m his father”. Upon asking, sure enough Peter’s father had passed. Now I was certain who had been orchestrating our paths crossing. Peter told me that strangely, he’d had a sudden urge to stop mowing the lawn halfway through and go for a ride. The next thing his dad told me was potatoes and peanuts. “Does this mean something to you”, I asked Petey. “Yes”, he said, “they were my dad’s favourite things to eat.” The night before I’d been at a pool party, where I kept hearing the words potatoes and peanuts in my head. As well as race car driver. Peter’s dad is a very strong, insistent spirit who was identifying himself to me a full 24 hours before I’d “bump” into his son again. Yup, he used to race cars and in fact had a stern warning for Peter to slow down while driving. That made his son laugh, recalling to me an event they spent in the car together years before… those who know Peter will understand this warning – he’s a bit lead-footed.
Dad gave me many other accurate messages and details, including a thumbs up for an upcoming big music break for his son. Peter called me yesterday to tell me he just got the good news I predicted. There were also messages sent for Peter’s mom from her husband, which meant a great deal to her when he passed them on. The details I gave provided proof that dad was still with them, as their accuracy was undeniable. Dad even made me clap wildly and wave my arms at the end of our impromptu reading. A thing in their family was always to clap wildly, especially dad, for sometimes no reason at all. And Peter tells me his father had a goofy sense of humour… which is why he made me wave my arms madly and act like a goof. I didn’t mind, even though we were now on the sidewalk of a busy street. This spirit loves his son and moved mountains, or rather bikes and feet, to talk with his child one last time.
Small Medium, over and out. www.jadeintuitive.ca jadeintuitive@yahoo.ca
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