Love

Franklyn

For the past two months this name was running through my mind. I kept hearing the name and wondering what this fellow was up as I hadn’t seen him in a while. My last encounter was at the neighborhood Safeway when he pulled up on his bike. This was the first time I had seen him on a bike since I don’t know when. He was clean, groovey and had the happiest smile on his face. We talked for a bit, I went my way, he went his.
A couple of weeks ago I was talking to his ex-wife @ a Festival, a very good and long time friend. I wondered out loud about him and she told me that he had passed many years ago. It’s funny the things I missed but most of all my mind. I kid you not. Having memory loss has its perks. You forget the bad and every once in a while a great memory passes through and you laugh out loud or just a little and it gets to stay. But I have no recall of him after the last time I seen him.
I was shocked to say the least after hearing this news. I said to her, “I have no words..truly.”
And now that I think on it, it was memories that were coming through of him, his wit, his laugh, his seriousness, his willingness to help. All great attributes of a good friend. I had mentioned to her that I would try to find out where he was buried or maybe his obituary which I did today on the internet. Today I pay tribute to you and remember you my friend. No sorrow my friends, just sharing a memory which in my case is a great thing!

ENGST###, Frank; Franklyn passed away August 27th, 2011 and will be greatly missed by all who knew him. We all hope Franklyn is peaceful in Harley Heaven. He is survived by his sister Kendra and her two sons Dean and Jake and several grandchildren. Good bye Franklyn we all love you!

A few minutes after I wrote this I received a message from my girlfriend, the ex-wife of this fellow. Here it is as follows;

“The weirdest thing just happened. Cleaning cupboard under bathroom sink. Found this bag with various pins I collected over the years and I found this beautiful pin (cameo) that Franklin got me way back when. Always loved it but thought I lost it years ago when we still lived in the house and I had left my jacket on top of the car and never found it. Strange the things that happen!”

I can also add to this that through some of the Mediumship readings I have had the pleasure of receiving a couple months ago that a Viking fellow came through, a proud man riding a Harley which at the time didn’t ring true for me. It does now. That would have been Franklyn. I shared this with her. She said how strange. I said this was meant to be. I love my life!

Family, Story Teller

5 Days In July

This morning I had the urge, huge urge to get in my car, travel to a pilgrimage an hour away from my city, a nice drive out in the country to the lake. And when I parked the car I heard my name called a few times, “Gail! Gail!!” trying to get my attention. My mother, bless her heart was in a vehicle with two of my aunts parked a few cars down. I knew that this was providence and going to be a fun day even though the services would be solemn but joyous. Love the singing part myself!

Lac Ste. Anne is a site for the annual pilgrimage, a spiritual gathering with many hundreds in attendance. Here follows what Parks Canada explains in more detail than I could.

“Lac Ste. Anne Pilgrimage is a site of national historic significance because as early as 1889, Aboriginal people, including Cree, Dene, Blackfoot and Métis, have been coming to Lac Ste. Anne to celebrate the Feast of Saint Anne. Saint Anne embodies, for many Aboriginal peoples, the traditional importance of the grandmother figure. For the Aboriginal people of Western and Northwestern Canada, the pilgrimage site is an important place of social, cultural and spiritual rejuvenation, which are important aspects of the traditional summer gathering.”

An outdoor church, a huge building that seated hundreds under that wooden roof with many benches was the first time for me to experience this since I was a child. The service took no time at all and after I walked towards the lake as it is known for its healing waters. In ankle deep water and watching others going way deeper, I said my prayer, the whole reason I came.

People come from near and far for this event and my mom introduced me to long lost relatives from my father’s side of the family. My Aunt Violet, seeing me for the first time since I was a baby couldn’t get over the family resemblance and frankly neither could I. Her son Dennis and his son, Raymond and I made an instant connection, just like we knew each other for the longest time. No sooner had I met them there were more cousins that came over to say hello.  That was pretty darn cool to meet this friendly bunch, getting to know each other and then hugging each other goodbye. I sure hope to see them again!

There were many vendors and I was walking along and spied my Aunt Bertha who I met a couple of years ago. My dad and her were inseparable and when he would come into the city he would stay with her. She was telling me stories today about him, how impeccable he was. Always cleaning and keeping everything neat and tidy including her children. I started to tear up as I really never knew what made this man tick. But it also made me laugh because I picked up on his ways. For me everything has to be perfect.

So there you have it. That huge urge to make this trip and not only to see what this pilgrimage was about with my adult eyes but also to walk into wonder and connection for my emotional being. Dad, I know you are watching me from where ever you are and I thank you for making my day!

Aunt Bertha

Intuition

Ducats anyone?

Dream # 20440

Very colorful crazy dream with me travelling the world and finding myself in New York city with all the lights of Times Square shining brightly. I look up to a huge screen on the building and see a girl drinking from a Campbells soup can with the words, horse and then orang written on it. Yes orang, spelt like that. Caught my attention like it was suppose to.

I am following these exotic women to a table where they have bags of ducats and sitting down to count them. At first one in particular was a tad nervous not knowing me but I quickly disarmed them all by telling them stories of working in the bank. Who knew that this would actually come in handy and in a dream. Yes, I did work in a bank for many years in reality.

Okay now to the dream interpretation of horse which was: the message and the messenger, making progress, unbridled emotions, instincts.one that is making progress. Orange was broken down to food that nourishes us spiritually. Ducats or money: benefits or returns from efforts, that which is of value and truth.

This interpretation makes perfect sense to me and answers my questions as to my life purpose wondering if I am on the right path. You live in a life where for many years your parents or those in authority told you life is a certain way but your mind say it different as it was in my case. All those years of fighting this wonderful gift and now to relish in it. I have met so many people that have appeared to help me in my endeavors, some from my classes, and some almost magically from no where. I love my life with the adventures and the crazy dreams that come with it and so I say bring it on and enjoy your day my friends.

Gary Wright “Dream Weaver”

Intuition, Story Teller, Universe

“Excuse me, but do I know you?

ShamanAnd that first sentence was how I met a Elder yesterday at my very favorite haunt, a place I go to for my morning breakfast. I had just finished doing a tarot card reading for one of the girls that works there and was settling my bill. An older native gentlemen stood a few feet away from the till watching me. He then turned and asked me that question. I replied that he did look familiar and then our truly extraordinary conversation unfolded.

He was a man that has gifts, a Shaman and the knowledge to guide me even in this brief turn of events. A passing word but so much that resonates within me. I was told to continue with what I was doing and to respect the many mentors that would come. My heart soared when we were telling our stories on what it meant to be intuitive and what we see. We had  sat on the bench of this foyer of the restaurant talking all the while and then got up, for each to go our separate ways. As I walked away I told him that I had asked for this. I had asked the Universe to send me someone wise, an elder and I received my wish. He then said he had hoped that one day we would see each other and if that is meant to be, then it will happen. For now I remember everything that he relayed to me, that means so much to me.

Letters to Heaven

Away

I have been thinking of you all day. It’s that day again Dad. Father’s Day. That bittersweet day where I am happy but sad. You may have passed on but you are still beating strongly within my whole being. At times I can hear your voice or I remember a silly little antic you use to pull on me as a child.

February 23, 1986, my father passed away from a stroke that he had endured the year previous. He had been in a coma like state that year. My father had been a career service man in the Canadian army and so my childhood was spent waiting for him to come back from where ever the army sent him in the world. My mother and father divorced when I was young and she was lucky enough to meet another man who would take on the challenge of being a new father to …me. I rarely seen my father as he then moved up north and my childhood changed and I was in charge of my little brothers and sister. As I grew older the chasm widened. We did stay in contact and truly loved the day my dad walked into the hospital room to see his first grandchild. He even held him. That was in 1983. Then the day I got the news was February 23, 1985 that he had a severe stroke and they did not know if he would make it.

I have to thank this man as he looks down on me from heaven because he made me the woman that I am. That I can stand on my own and stand up for myself. I am proud of his accomplishments in service to his country and I tell his story to people that will listen because truly it is interesting. Happy Fathers Day dear father. I love you and I miss you. Come visit me in my dreams.

Your loving daughter, Gail1466125_596477600389041_1536298587_n

Story Teller

The Boys

“A few years back I had a dream of a maze inside a gray building. I could hear excited voices and them saying, “She’s here!” It seemed as all night long people that had passed came out of the door to greet me, so happy they were. I remember seeing Kenny and Rob together, excited that I could see them. Kenny talking up a storm and Rob very quiet. When I awoke from this I was quite tired from the all night “party” but lifted from this visit. Another has gone this week and I am sad to hear of his passing. He was a kind and gentle friend who always took the time to give me that big old bear hug and listen to my stories which were many. He had a smile that lit up the room and a wise wisdom to his demeanour. His was the idea to have my angel wings rings made for me and that I wear proudly. Sleep with angels my friend.~”

And so it was that someone close to our circle of friends has gone on. He had had a diagnosis of cancer many years ago and I look at the years in between that he had accumulated. We all thought that then he was going to pass and we were so happy when he came back from the doctors with an all clear.

I know that I have talked of my dream’s and the visitations. Those started happening to me as far back as I could remember. I know as a child I had night terrors and many vivid dreams and I really needed someone to listen to me, but alas and alack, it was not to be. Add to that the story teller I became and a big wonderment to my Mother who may or may not have believed some of my tall tales of the things I seen or what was going to happen. She didn’t know what to do with me. I didn’t know what to do with me. Too funny now when you think of it. Now in my later years I feel comfortable in my skin learning more about the gift which we all have and how to use it. I hang out with like minded people who soothe my soul. I delight in my world and it is at times like this with the passing of a great friend that I can find solace that he is healed and may one day come to visit. And add to that is probably with the boys, Kenny and Rob and in good company.

Letters to Heaven

Hello!

Paratroopers
Paratroopers

Hi it’s me Dad, Gail.

I sure miss you and think of you often. It has been many years since you have been gone. Has it been 29 years already? Time surely flies. And it only seemed like it was yesterday when you left. My hopes that all is well and you are healed and in heaven. Oh but sure you are. You know if you are not to busy, send me a sign.

I’ll be watching…. Signed, Your Loving Daughter~