Scary Little Kid

As much as my oldest son is a real stinker he is also my most gifted. I mean he sees dead people just like I do. It has been an interesting journey so far, watching him become more aware. He also can read my mind. I have to be really careful to remember to shield myself when I'm thinking about something she should hear. Like how I would like to run that lady that just cut me off into a ditch.


Many many times I have been making them breakfast and I'll be thinking about chocolate. The little man will walk over and say, "mommy I want chocolate too." He doesn't even like chocolate. He has also told me about things from history as though he were there. It has become so common  place now that I don't remember most of it. He told me once that cars are suppose to be cranked to start. That sort of thing.


I have an uncle several generations back that lost half his arm in a farming accident. I've seen him many times. He just hangs around and watches over me. I've been aware of him since I was in high school. How can you miss a man with one arm? One night we were all sitting eating dinner and the living room light went off. I turned it back on, it turned itself off. This went on for a few minutes and my little many says "oh that's uncle Henry." I have never mentioned his name before so I asked, "how do you know that?" He says, "cause he only has one arm, duh." But of course he does.


I have been told by friends and family that have known me my whole life that, sometimes I just knew things. I don't remember any of that from when I was a kid. I guess it wasn't made into anything so I just ignored it. Then I went into my denial stage. I blocked it out. My sister used to get me drunk at parties she would have so that I would give readings. Her friends were always amazed, honestly so was I. It's just something I can do. And I just kept on blocking it out.


When I as about to leave my first marriage an old lady came to me. Basically she told me I needed to be true to myself and get moving. Leave while I still could. So I left. Really horrible excuse for a human being, he was. I saw this lady everywhere. I heard her, saw her, smelled roses around her, even carried on conversations with her. I started calling her Grandma Rosie. Sometimes I would have dreams about her and she always had white roses around her. I was telling my Grandmother about this one day and she went to get a picture. This picture she showed me was a very old black and white photo of three women and three children. She asked if I recognized her. I pointed to one of the ladies and said "that's her." Turns out that was my great great great grandmother Rose White.


That was the beginning of me acknowledging my gifts.