Love is forever…One woman’s journey with grief

Friday night after work I went to a local used bookstore to hear a concert by a musician whose music has been playing non-stop in my car since I picked up her CD at a gig last month.  After her show, I wandered to the back of the store to hit the restroom prior to driving home, and popped into a section of the store that can only be described as an eternal rummage sale.  This bookstore buys more than just used books; it buys quirky stuff of all sorts.  I found a great print of the Golden Gate Bridge there, and as I wandered through last night I found the perfect birthday gift for a friend of mine who’ll be turning 70 this year.  I didn’t pick it up, though, because E had untold dollar amounts of trade vouchers for this same store in his wallet across town, and I wasn’t going to pay for it when I could have it for free, so I determined to return for it today.

We brought in a bunch of other books to trade in, but it was a busy Saturday and they told us it would be 35-40 minutes until they got to our pile, so we wandered the store.  The clock I’d spied the night before for my friend was still there, so I grabbed it, browsed the New Age section and the magazines, and then settled into a chair to wait for our stuff to be evaluated and E to be done with his shopping.  As I sat there, they announced that at the front of the store were 3 psychics that would be giving free readings.  

I have wanted to hear from a medium since A died.  Well, that’s not quite true…a couple weeks after he died, one night the word “Medium” popped into my head quite out of nowhere.  I didn’t really believe in them, never considered going to one, and I was surprised I would even think of it; I wondered if A had put the idea in my head.  I started doing research and read a lot of stuff on the web, eventually finding my way to George Anderson’s books.  From what I’ve read, I have to say that I think George Anderson is the genuine article.  I believe that some people really do have these kinds of gifts; however, I also believe that 90% or more of those who claim to have them do not.  I am a wary consumer of the paranormal, as anyone should be.

I have gone back and forth with myself about talking to a medium.  Part of the reason is money—it ain’t cheap, especially if I wanted to sit with George Anderson himself.  Part of it was something of a matter of faith—I have received so many signs and even a few visitations from A since he died that I am convinced that he’s out there, still loves me, and it almost seemed ungrateful after all that to ask for further confirmation.  And finally, and this really was the true sticking point, I was afraid I’d have an experience where it was clear that the person was a fraud, and my newly found belief in the next life would crumble to dust around me.  Frankly, my heart couldn’t take the potential disappointment; that belief, that he was not over, but rather just in another room, was (and remains) one of the things keeping me going instead of succumbing to despair for the duration.

Two months after A died, I had my first run-in with a self-proclaimed psychic.  It would’ve been comical if I hadn’t been in the middle of a complete emotional breakdown at the moment.  However, it was my experience with that woman that formed the expectation in my heart that should A desire to reach me beyond the messages he’d already sent me, he would find a way, and a true medium would bump into me some day somewhere, look up at me, and say, “Oh my goodness…I have message for you!”  And it would be exactly something he would say, and they would go on their merry way and that would be that.   I decided, however unreasonably, that if I was meant to speak with a medium, the opportunity would fall into my lap, and wouldn’t cost me a dime.  When you think about it, it’s not really any more unreasonable to expect that than to expect to receive messages from a dead person in the first place.  If you’re going to dream, may as well dream big.

So I sat paralyzed in my chair, trying to decide what to do.  What was the likelihood that 3 legitimate psychic/medium-types were setting up temporary shop in a used bookstore on a hot Saturday afternoon in June?  Not very, it seemed to me.  And yet, was it not strange that they were there on a day that I was, having no idea they would be (their space had been in use by the Red Cross Bloodmobile when I walked in the store), offering their services for free?  There are no coincidences, right?  Wasn’t this exactly what I asked for?

While I was thinking about it, staring into space, one of them walked past where I was sitting and asked me, specifically, “Are you going to get a reading?”  I decided as I said, “I am,” and got up to go sign up on the list, with a little nervousness, but knowing I’d kick myself if I passed up the opportunity, and would continue to wonder.

It turned out that one person was a tarot reader, and the other two were psychics and mediums.  I read their pamphlets and decided to sign up with the latter two.  They introduced themselves, and sat down to work.  There were a few people ahead of me, so I stood around to wait.  And listen.  

The medium I had the greatest hopes for asked a lot of questions, and the lady sitting with him helped him out quite a bit.  A true medium doesn’t need to get the information from you; they will be told it by the soul trying to reach you.  By then, E came to see what I was up to, and I told him I’d signed up, and it shouldn’t be too long a wait.  I explained that I’d long wanted to do this, and my reasons for not having done so.  He’s a total skeptic, but was willing to wait, as our books weren’t done yet anyway.  I told him I wanted to wander behind the other gal and listen to her session to see if she was any better, and E wandered off to look at magazines.

As I eavesdropped, I heard her giving such specific advice as “He’s saying, ‘follow your heart.’”  And I noticed the sitter talking quite a bit.  Again, if you’re doing all the talking, the only person you’re communicating with is yourself, not the other side.  I was disappointed, and went over to tell E that it didn’t look good, that I was going to listen to the other guy a little bit more, but that we might be done there sooner than expected.

I went back to listen, but before I could, she called my name.  I sat down, and she explained that I needed to write down my name and birthdate and those of anyone I wanted to know about.  A little sketchy, I thought, but she didn’t have a computer open to Google available, so I figured it couldn’t hurt much.  I wrote down my own info and A’s.

She read the names and instantly asked, “Is this your father?”  He was old enough to be my father, as she’d ascertained from the birthdate, no doubt, but it seemed that her psychic powers had failed her out of the gate (especially since I’d put down my maiden name as asked, and it didn’t match his name).  I answered “No.”  She looked at it again and rubbed her fingers across his name, then looked at me and said “This isn’t a romantic thing, is it?”  I just smiled enigmatically.  She went on, “because it isn’t going to work out.  He’s not right for you.  He’s a nice guy, but he’s not intellectually your equal.  You need someone who is better matched for you intellectually.”  There was more along those lines, but she’d already lost me.

The fact of the matter is, A and I were perfectly matched on every single possible level, including (and probably to the greatest degree) intellectually.  It really was uncanny, and beautiful.  Granted, we don’t have quite the give-and-take we once did on that score; he’s been pretty quiet for almost 2 years, but the fact that a psychic medium didn’t grok that he was actually dead doesn’t say much for her abilities.  Nor did she ascertain that I DO have someone else in my life who is an equal intellectual match, probably because I didn’t put his name on the paper.

She went on to say that while I am strong, she sensed I had been hurt in relationships before (I haven’t had that many romantic relationships in my life), that I had emotional baggage from my childhood, and that these issues made it hard for me to be vulnerable, and that I needed to be with someone who lifted me up and helped me with my self-esteem.  

I suppose all of these could be said to be true of me, but they are no doubt also true of every single other person in that store.  Who hasn’t been hurt?  Who doesn’t have emotional baggage from childhood?  Who doesn’t need to be around people who lift them up instead of putting them down?  

And anyone who knows me knows that self-esteem is NOT my problem.  A superiority complex used to be my problem, but a strong dose of Death will teach you humility like nothing else.

I didn’t give her much beyond the occasional “I’m listening” nod and a non-committal smile.  I thanked her and got up, neglecting to put anything in her “love offering” basket.  The other guy had called my name while I was meeting with her, and since I didn’t answer, the lady that had been there before me came back for further reading.  I had one ear on their conversation, and when he said, “Was he a quiet man?” and she answered in the affirmative, he responded with “Because that’s what I’m getting.”  At that point, I found E and said “We’re done here,” and we got our credit slip, collected the books the store didn’t want, and checked out.

While I didn’t hear from A as I’d hoped, I think the experience was valuable.  My greatest fear had been that my disappointment with an obvious fraud would make me doubt everything I’d come to believe about there being more after this life, and negate the encouragement I take from knowing that A’s life continues in another form, and that didn’t happen at all.  As I walked out of the store, I could laugh at the experience, as it deserved, and I still feel sure that A is out there.  I may not trust the “medium” I talked to today, but I trust me and my own experiences.  If nothing else, it’s good to know that my new understanding and…I guess you’d call it…faith, are not as precarious as I feared.  In that, I got much more than I paid for.