Gift, Healing, Higher Self, Intuition, Love, Loved Ones, Medium, Thankful, Universe

Day 4~Daily I Think

Managing my own energy as I have done many times before is paramount in this time of strife and uncertainty. Connecting through reiki on a daily basis has grounded, healed and expanded that healing to whoever I have been working with. A month ago a spark of an idea compelled me to ask for volunteers to participate in distance mini reiki sessions with the intention of spreading inner healing, love and compassion. Who knew that this idea would go forth into long distance reiki healing sessions for groups of people and at this time. My intentions pure and purpose set to laser beam focus of healing energy. Invited two other reiki facilitators to be a part of this event happening this weekend as the more energy the better I say.

My experience with this navigation of energy shifts has been an emotional re-alignment where the stress levels in my body and having a restful night’s sleep have enhanced my lifestyle. A sense of calm and peace has permeated this emotional, spiritual and physical body but has also given rise to my insight and clarity. For me this is abundance, tenfold and why would I not share this gift.

Gail~

Healing, Home Sweet Home, Letter Writer, Love

Day 3~Daily I Think

Social media can be a great source of entertainment or information as we all know this to be true. Last week when the seriousness of this world wide sickness sunk in, the newsfeed in my facebook community began to come alive. I am not exaggerating when the same informative posts was shared a few 100 times over the next few days. Does this continuity of posts create anxiety in the minds of the average person? Becoming proactive my newsfeed was cleaned by deleting many posts and notifications and lo and behold two days later the wall has once again taken on a sense of peace and tranquility.

The wall has taken on another aspect of stories of business owners who have closed down for a indeterminate amount of time and share their last day in the shop. The not knowing when and hoping that their clients come back to them ‘if’ they have a business when this is all over. But as always there are the community groups that are there to assist those in need. The teachers who go ‘live’ to teach elementary students their grade four curriculum. I, along with a few hundred adults were to learn some insightful aboriginal history. These fb friends are the ‘helpers’ who lend a balance by posting positivity. All good to see.

This is but a drop in the bucket to the whole extent of what is truly working behind the scenes and the mass of energy it is taking to control this situation but I believe we are in good hands. This has been an a challenging experience for many, many people, this we have no doubt but it is one day at a time and we are all in it together. My prayer is for all to stay safe. Until tomorrow, g’nite.

Family, Gift, Guardian Angel, Heaven, Letters to Heaven, Love, Loved Ones, Medium

1986

The phone rings. It is the girlfriend. Not mine personally. This one is yours dad. The hospital bed is available here near where I live. It will be yours to live in for the next month. “When will you be down to visit?” she asks. “I am on my way now.” I state.

The bus takes me to the south side of town. Actually it was a number of buses to get to my destination. So long to wait for it to pick me up, to travel through the city, to get off and wait again. Truly impatient to get to your bedside. My throat is closing, my mind is racing, my heart…is breaking.

The building is the University Hospital. It is night when I come through the doors and state my business to the information desk. They tell me what floor you are on. Up the old elevator, out those doors and down the hallway to your room. It is semi dark in there, like an old time noir film. The nurse behind the curtain that surrounds your bed is with you. I wait until she is done. There is another person here. The girlfriend. She tells me not to take too long . That you require rest.

Isn’t that what you have been doing this past year? I don’t understand. I was told a year ago that you had suffered a stroke and there wasn’t anything I could do. But asked not to visit. I was a single woman with a toddler and no means to travel to the town where you were. So there it is.

The curtain opens. The nurse is gentle with me. She takes my hand and brings me to your side and tells me to talk to you. “He may hear you it’s just that he cannot respond.” she states. “The stroke was massive.” They both stare at me while I look down on you. Having a hard time to process all what is happening. Another nurse comes in and she shows me your feet, that they are turning in. I don’t see what they see. That you going into a fetal position. They are explaining that you will soon go. That your time is near and for me to prepare.

This I remember. I stand at the foot of your bed and try to memorize your feet. They look like mine. Not the dainty feet my mother has but the knobby toes that I would be teased about. My gaze takes me to your face. It is not the face of my animated father but someone else. You don’t appear to be there. You are sleeping. The machines are making you breathe. It is too much for one person to bare. If I ever felt more alone it is now with everyone staring at me. I leave and go home.

My visits to your bedside are frequent but kept to a minimum when the girlfriend is there. It is a feeling on her part, like you are not to be shared. I don’t get it. There is no one to fully support me on this end. Not the new boyfriend. He likes to party. How fully he was into it I did not comprehend. So naive to that way. His friend and him used my space to have their fun and I let them. All that noise if you will dimmed the hurt that was invading my soul.

The call came after 2:35 am. You had passed. My heart broke. You know that feeling. We all share that. The quiet dead in our body. The standing still in our mind. Nothing. I don’t recall anything after that. I do know that time takes care of all the details. There is work to be done. Where are you to be buried. How to get you to High Prairie, AB? The minute details with the funeral director here in Edmonton.

At this time days after I am beholden to strangers for a ride to your home town a few hours away. I take Colin with me. My boyfriend. The baby is kept by my aunt while we are gone for two nights. I am not me. Does this make sense to anyone? I am here but I am not. It is out of body. We arrive at a distant cousin home. Their last name is Cunningham. I am being introduced to people who I have no memory of but they do indeed remember me. I get a lot of, “I knew you when you were this small.” They kept remarking that I resembled my dad. It was so strange. I knew they cared but it felt so foreign. So thrust out in the spotlight.

Feb 28, 1986 It is cold this night. I am impatient to see you. It is the wake and I am seated next to your sister Margaret. She has taken her place next to me. She is my rock, my support. Where did she come from? This is all a blur. The small room is dark and very quiet with the roomful of people. I don’t know what to expect. All I want to do is to run up to your casket. My aunt takes my hand. We walk up to you. You are dressed in your army uniform. Wearing your medals. I say to my aunt, “I was promised those medals” Telling me not to worry that she will make sure that I will get them before he is buried. She does indeed keep her promise. I sit down and cry.

March 1, 1986 Oh it is cold. Biting cold. I stand by the hearse and wait. I stand alone, feet away from you by the back door of the dark green vehicle staring into the back window. Finally they open the door and presently bring you to your graveside. Standing next to you I want to once again hold you in my arms, to tell you how much you were loved by me. That winter day bites into my legs. I am handed a package. It is your medals.

There is the standard luncheon soon after and there are many people brought to my table. Long lost relatives I was kept away from by my mother. They tell me stories about you dad. Still I sit there and it is almost that I cannot hear them. There is white noise in my head. The close relatives we stayed with overnight decide to go to the local bar. There is a country jam and I cannot comprehend that we just buried you and you want to what? go to a bar?? Because we are beholden to these people for a ride back to the house, we go.

The locals in this town all seem to know one another. They know each other’s business for the good and the bad of that. I listen to the gossip, some funny stories some sad and disturbing. I have that respectful demeanor happening right now. So timid. So afraid. One after another many acts come on the stage and it is the last that breaks me. He is a gapped tooth man. The town drunk I am told. Straggly hair tucked into a baseball cap. He saunters onto the stage. It is as if the crowd hold their breathe. And then he sings, “Honey, honey, honey won’t you open that door, this is your sweet baby, don’t you love me anymore, honey won’t you open that door?” But he presents it in a humorous manner that everyone breaks our laughing. Even me. I let loose, laughing loudly. My aunt smiles at me. I cry and laugh. Even through tears I laugh. It is that release, that sweet release I needed.

Dad it is Feb 2, 2019, almost 33 years since you passed on Feb 23, 1986 at 2:37 am. I miss you like crazy. Like now as I write this. I may have you energetically but it is not the same. I want to feel your hugs. Your kisses. The tug of your fingers on my nose as you try to pull it off. Those funny things that daddies do that love their little girls.

P.S. The image of this watch that belonged to my father was worn by me for close to a year when it suddenly stopped on the anniversary of his death, date and time. I woke the next morning and put it on and then seen the time. It has been that way since then.

#333 #Dreams #Visit

Family, Love, Loved Ones

Son

If you only knew how hard it was for me. If you only knew that this decision was made with hours of hours of thinking. I was 17 years when I became pregnant with you. I loved your father. He was so handsome. My heart broke when he left me. Being a single parent had many challenges and there were many. I didn’t know the first thing about mothering. Nothing. No nurturing. I didn’t know what that was. My parents did all they could to help with financial ends and the baby sitting as I worked. Food was put on our table. Sadly though I suffered from debilitating migraines and panic attacks. There would be days that I could not get out of bed and begged for my suffering to be over. You would be picked up and left to stay at mom and dad’s. It would be for a couple of days till I got over the pain in my head and those days turned into a week. The weeks turned into a month at the most.

It was talked about many times by my mother that they would take you to live with them. I didn’t want to. I didn’t. I had loved you so much. You were just learning to walk and find your character. You were so happy. My heart breaks. They came one morning, my step dad and my mom and took all your stuff, your crib, your clothes, your many toys. It was agreed upon that I would have no contact. That is crazy that is how it came to be. I suppose they were afraid I would change my mind and snatch you away. I knew you were in the best possible place but I thought I would be able to see you. It became nasty.  This situation. The last I heard from them is the day I signed over a government check, a tax return and thus that was that. My baby was gone.

I was lost with out you. Lost. The love that I had was not near me. I was alone and on the streets. Truthfully I do not remember that time so well. I do know that I continued to work at the dry cleaners where I excelled. Party was my major thing to look forward to on the weekends. In spite of all what happened I managed to break free of my carefree ways. I was able to become stable and with monies to purchase my first home. This was the home I would provide for me and my second son and to help him grow. It was also a learning time for me. How to parent. It wasn’t easy but I really tried. My second son was to replace the love I had lost in you.

I know your life is not easy. My heart breaks once again. To have you phone me for money again and again and for me to say I could give you none but only wanted you to know how much I loved you. I need you to know this. I want only the good for you. You don’t need the money. Know that.

gaildd
Those carefree days

Author, Family, Heaven, Letters to Heaven, Love, Loved Ones, Medium, Psychic

Sorry

It was that word I was not to understand when I had my own mediumship reading given to me by a mentor. She was bringing in my father and the one word that stuck out was, “Sorry” It took me days to get my “AHA” moment as it is when you go to a session. This word was given to me a few years ago. It was today that I had a heart to heart talk or the start of one with Dad. If you know my story, then you know he passed away in 1986. I asked him why he would leave me when I needed him the most. I remember those phone calls begging him to take me to his house hundreds of miles of away. I begged him.

My family life was shaky at the best of times and I am being nice for there sake. What was it that my own blood took her anger out on me. I will never know. But I found my dad’s number and phoned him, crying to him, to help me. It was not to be. The only times I was allowed to see him were a couple of weeks in the summer time as I was needed at home to babysit my step brothers and sister. If he came to town which was rare I would sit in his hotel room with him. One of those moments stands out as he was staying at the Cecil Hotel. He shows me his bullet wounds. The old scars on his body. He shows me his medals he received. He tells me that when he dies that I will receive those medals.

When he did pass away and I made my way up north, I talked to his sister Margaret and told her as I looked down on dad in his casket dressed in his uniform and wearing the medals that they were promised to me. It was to be presented to me when they buried him in the cold ground that wintry day. The priest put them in my hand. I felt utterly alone.

But the years pass and all I knew of what I felt of my father was the deep love for him, his essence. The word sorry came to me that day in that reading when I realized what he was saying that for. I told myself at that time it was not needed. But indeed it was. So to get back to that conversation with dad. The deep realization that he knew now what has transpired but had deep sorrow for that. “Where were you when I needed you. Where? Did you not believe me when I told you my stories? Did you not know I was the truth teller?”

Well dad the time has come to now truly forgive you. To let go. This has all come to pass and for all those experiences my body, mind and spirit took I am the better person for it. I only wish you were here physically by my side. You would be 93 though. And I am glad to have heard that word. It means so much to me now.

Much love and huge hugs and lots of kisses to you Dad!

Family, Guardian Angel, Letters to Heaven, Love, Loved Ones, Story Teller

Grief

It starts as a rip.

It is subtle.  It is to the core. This madness. This, I would do anything to have you back, once again. I would do anything for a do over. Please. Are you listening?

I want, I desire to hear your voice again, your laughter, your wisdom, your touch..your touch. Do you hear me? I cry. I cry again. I miss you like you don’t know. I cry until my eyes hurt. I cry to my inner soul in so much anguish.

And it passes.

I laugh. Did you just make me laugh? I thought of something that you did. You know, that mannerism of grabbing your chin and your tongue pops out and you would grab my chubby hand and make me tug your ear and your tongue would pop back again. Crazy.

Thank you..spirit.

Heaven, Letters to Heaven, Love, Loved Ones, Story Teller

Forgive & Move On

I wake from a dream. It is Colin from the past. He is smiling and shows his love to me as he kisses me. Many years have gone by and I know in my heart he has passed on. I receive his visitations of sorrow and also validations of our life and his dreams. Anyone that abuses has themselves been abused in some form or other. He could never look in the mirror and see truth. I would say positive and he would reply negative. Nothing was good enough. He was not enough. Our relationship was loving at first but stress and a child not your own adds pressure. The yelling and threats followed. But I stayed. I was to overcome though when he threatened to take my house that I bought. I stood up to him.

I could never forgive him and I had my story about him that I told to others. On and on that went. Soon though that energy lessened as I met another man I was to marry. Colin stopped visiting my home and my son. I was not to see him again. It was about two years ago when I started receiving those visitations I spoke of before. His grandmother would be saying he was okay and Colin would be in the background on a ocean oilfield, a dream he always wanted to do. I forgive him now as all the experiences I gained from that time. I stood up to him and with that my boundaries grew stronger. I was standing in my power. My part of this was communication and saying no to the b.s.

I now love the dreams that come in of him and I smile this morning. He looked young and so happy as he smiled at me. I thank you for coming and saying hello spirit!

Gift, Guardian Angel, Intuition, Love, Medium, Psychic

Who Knew..

Who knew that when I let go all would work out to be the way it is. Let it Be. I look back on the fear that permeated my being by saying no to encouraging my growth. Being stuck in Anxietyville was the only thing I knew and believe it or not felt safe. To go beyond meant facing something that I could not endure in that space and time. I look now on the peace and freedom my life brings me and I shake my head at those fear based thoughts. Look at me all tied in knots, afraid of her own shadow and bites the hearts of those that would reach out with her harsh words to keep them at bay. Yes, I was that person. “Give me my space!” I demanded. Did anyone have a clue what I was going through. Man, I was a mess. Hahahaha. If I could I would go up to the former Gail and say, “Hey slow down, give yourself a break, do not give into the demands of life and go easy on yourself. Know that the Universe has your back.”

Five years ago or maybe more I was encouraged to attend class for psychic development. Omg, my mind went south to heck in a hand basket. Ego decided to hitch a ride and give it to me full blast. “You do not have what it takes, you will fail. It will be too much work. You are not intuitive, quit kidding yourself.” Yes, this was my cheerleading section in my mind. Ego was having a party and I was the only attendee. Slowly I came around with baby steps and being in a relationship at that time had a bit of encouragement to try it out. More and more I came out of my shell. Made new friends, trusted them with my heart and talked of things that interested me and they knew what I was going through. This was my tribe. I had finally found them.  This tribe consisted of women that had similar stories to mine. They had seen stuff happen around them that no other could see. They day dreamed a lot. Too much so that they were accused of living in another world. To be accused of being a liar crushes a young person’s spirit and deny’s them there truth. Know this.

Today you will see a vibrant, empowered, say it like it is, take charge of my own life kind of woman. Meditation is what centered me. Starting that off was such an endurance test but I passed it. Having made attempts to try it but not finishing a session only made me want to overcome it. Instead of pushing myself to sit in silence for 15 minutes I then went on Youtube and found a great guided meditation by Naomi Nonu-Carling called “Angel Contact” and started off with a minute. I came out of that psyched and ready to move on to add more minutes. So in one day I meditated for a whole hour, again starting off with that one golden minute. Today when I have a session with a client I actually bring them into meditation for a minute or three to show them how easy it is, starting with breathe. Telling them to push out those thoughts with your breathe. Steady one’s mind. Surprised looks are the norm when they come out and how it took for minutes to go by.

If I can do anything to help a person go beyond where they are now and if this is through a reading then I have fulfilled my purpose.

Guardian Angel, Love

What I did on my summer vacation…

I dreamt last night of a couple crossing the street. Me in my vehicle, waiting for them to progress but it was not to be as the woman fell down with the man helping her. I got out and proceeded to pick them up. The man wanted no help from me. He was disoriented. He was wearing military uniform with all the usual array of medals and such with the number 324 prominently showing. “Let me help you, you need help.” I said to him. No was his reply. “My father died of a stroke and I think that is what is happening to you.” I say to him. “Exactly!” is what he said as he stood up proudly. I was shaken momentarily and walked away. It was a very vivid dream with me carrying a red wallet and the song, “Wayward Son” with these lyrics playing all the while…”Carry on my wayward son, For there’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest Now don’t you cry no more.”

Waking up this morning I check the numbers and sure enough 324 has meaning. “You stand shoulder to shoulder with benevolent guardian angels, archangels, and ascended mas­ters. Surrounded by such powerful Divine love, you can feel certain of a positive outcome to this situation.” Red as I checked out with this as follows does resonate with me. “The alchemists had a much more narrow interpretation of the color red. For them, red was fire. But in alchemy, fire was more than simply heat. Fire was the force of creativity, the force what allowed radical transformation in the fulminato stage — the stage that directly preceded the accomplishment of the “Great Work. In dreams, red may be similarly interpreted meaning that the dreamer is engaged not only in a time of deep creative passion, but creativity that radically transforms one from the soul up and down and in and out.”

So this past summer it has been the ending of a relationship but with that a greater understanding of who I truly am and what I made out of. We seem to think that this is how it should be when life all of a sudden throws a curve ball and says no such luck girlie!  That happened but now I stand resolute and sure of myself. At this time meditation helps soothe the soul as does knowing that there are people to support me as well as on the other side with healing. Not a day goes by that I do know that my father is around me and shows me with his symbol, the number 3. The peacefulness of the days carries this one down her path. I know there are greater things that await and I look forward to this adventure we call life. This was my gift from the universe and such a great learning experience to take away from it all.

Love

I Got To Be Me!

I had a nervous breakdown in February 6, 2006. This was my last day of work in a fast paced job as a bank teller. There were aspects of it that I loved but the hurry hurry got to me. Add to this my panic attacks and I was heading down the road to being a car wreck that we can’t help but look at. My relationship with my then husband also was stacked on that pile and this too was to change.

May I say that staying at home was like heaven as I stayed in my room, my safe place for long periods of time. Everything had come to a standstill, no talking to friends, no going out for fear of having a full out panic attack happen, no loud noises as that brought on anxiety and that meant no big crowds. The memory loss was part of the deal, something that I did not ask for and did not know about until my doctor and husband pointed it out. People would come up to me and I wouldn’t have a clue as to who they were like we were meeting for the first time. I know now that it would appear that I was being stand offish but that couldn’t be further from the truth. This still happens to me even now but I have my tactics to get by and usually call everyone my friend, dear or sweetie.

Back then in the early period of that time was a living hell. I knew that deep down there was more to me than the lamp that sat next to me on the night stand or the man that came home from work to my home and fought with me. My gift still was there inside of me and if anything that it came out more as I was paying attention. I was in the now state. I was starting to see things outside of me which disturbed and left me unsettled without any guidance from anyone. The typhoon that ripped apart the Philippines later in the year had come to me in a dream the week before it happened. I could see many people in the water and they were very frightened beyond belief with arms reaching out, screaming, yelling for help. I awoke from that nightmare and cried to my husband, “What am I to do with this? I have no idea what I am suppose to do with this.”  Newspapers had there headlines boldly written out about the devastation overseas and the one image I seen as I read the articles was the one that I had seen in my dream.

My life has changed exponentially as I have embraced my new life without the husband, now ex but have a new man in my life.  My gifts have been developed and finely tuned with guidance of teachers and the panic attacks might come around but I have that under control with meditation, eating and sleeping well. And the memory bank might let out something once in a while and I treasure it and I say, I know that! I was there. I remember!!” It’s pretty cool when that happens and I feel like part of the crowd instead of the one saying, “I don’t know, I don’t know what you’re talking about” and feeling left out. Or having a person I haven’t seen in a long while say loudly, “You remember, try!! You remember, you were there!” and clearly I don’t and I don’t try to pretend just to get by.  New life, new girl, new outlook and I love it all!