Speaking with Spirits


It’s been several days since I met with the Medium in the small, quaint, London apothecary come coffee shop;  I guess I needed time and space to process the experience.

Yes, yes, I know…  I can hear your groans and see your eyes rolling from here!

Put aside your rational, logical, naysayer beliefs for just one moment;  even YOU must admit that you’re the teeny, tiniest bit intrigued by this, right?

Oh come on!  We’ve all wondered about the “other side.”  

We’ve all dared to imagine that it just might exist.  We’ve perhaps even wondered (privately, of course) if we might be able to communicate with a friend or loved one, who’s crossed over.

And wouldn’t that be awesome!

My day started off like any other.  An agreement to meet at London Victoria, we’d find a quiet place to talk and just see what (if anything) unfolded.

We weren’t strangers per say, but more like friends or acquaintances who had never actually met each other face to face.

She was exactly as I had anticipated; warm, welcoming and unassuming.  She had the kindest eyes and an infectious laugh as well as a beautiful smile.  There was a soft, reserved, quietness about her that made me feel immediately calm and at ease.

Being “me,” I just couldn’t help asking questions about her life? Family? Friends? History? We chatted for over an hour and then it was time.

She was supposed to “read” me first… to get a sense of who I was; the kind of person I am and what I’m about, so to speak.

The first word that came out of her mouth was “Horses.”

(Okay… yes, I like horses, I guess… at least as much the next guy I suppose.) 

However, if you know me, you know I was hoping to connect with my brother Charlie; and if you know Charlie you know his most favourite thing in the world (along with watching football) was Horse Racing! 

He LOVED everything about horse racing! The horses, their names; the jockeys, the  design and colours of their silks, the trainers and the tracks.  He went to the Saratoga Race Course opening every year!  He had visited Aquaduct, Gulfstream, The Meadowlands and more.

(Okay, she had my attention!)   

She talked about my childhood; my being outside a lot in nature; running through long grass, playing “pretend” and hide and seek games, climbing trees.  (I loved climbing trees. I lived in the top of “The Apple Tree.”)  She said she saw me as a “Tom Boy.”  

She could see the wispy tops of the long wheat grass, floating thick in the air as a bunch of us kids ran through it.

She was reminded of Huckleberry Finn.  I was reminded of Bell Hill and Green Hill Park.

(Seriously, how did she know I was Tom Boy?) 

I laughed as I admitted that I hadn’t realise I was a “girl” until I was about 10 and yes all of what she had told me, about the type of person I was, my childhood and my sensitivities… was all right on the money!

His {Charlie’s} first words were something like, “I never thought I’d be talking to you through this Little Witch, but here I am.”

(Damn! That sure sounds like Charlie!)

He was excited and happy to be there.  He thanked me and apologised for always being in a bad mood towards the end and for taking things out on me.  He said he was not ready to go and that he had a very difficult time accepting that this was is fate.  He struggled to accept the “defeat.”


Do I remember the barking dog?  Hmmmm?

OMG!  Yes, yes I do remember the barking dog!

(When Charlie was really sick the next door neighbour’s dog would be tied up from early morning till after dark and at some point during the day, he would start BARKING like crazy, for hours!  Charlie used to curse both the dog and the owner.) 

He told me that when he was sick, I was kind.

He laughed again at the fact that he was speaking through this “Little Witch”

She laughed and said he had a nice smile.

(He did have a nice smile.  He had the BEST smile!  A Cheshire Cat grin, I always used to say.)

He said he was ok now, and that I should not worry about him. He said he never thought he’d have to go so early, and that in the end he felt “humiliated” and “pissed off.”

(He was embarrassed by his illness and humiliated.  Pissed off, would definitely be a word he would use to describe his feelings! )

Now, he knows it was the right time and that being here was a gift.

He told me he loved me.  He was proud of me and again that I worry too much.

He laughed at the thought of my first cigarette and how I always had trouble “rolling.”

(Hmmm?  Weird.  I smoked Newport’s or Marlboro’s, which came pre-rolled in a box?) 


I get it, yes…  Yes, he’s right!!!

I could not roll a joint, to save my life!!!!

Yes, that is funny!

He talked about how he sometimes missed being here…  but how he especially missed the  taste of an iced cold “beer.”  

(WHAT?  This made my day! Charlie loved beer.  He washed is cancer meds down with beer! He had beer for breakfast.  This more than anything made me believe he just might be there.)

He also used the word “fuck,” (another convincing sign) but I was so busy laughing, I can’t remember the context.

He said I’d remember the “creaking floorboards” (which I do) and all the wood in the house.  He mentioned all of us kids running up and down the wooden stairs.  (Hey Mark… do you remember the noise we made as we all ran up and down the back stairs?)

He said there was a time that we were apart, but we ended up back together again.  (Yup… that would be when he was in prison for 5 years.)

He told me he knew I had always been there for him and that even when I disapproved of something he had done or was doing, he never felt that I judged him.

He said he loved me.

I said I loved him.

There was more to the day…  there was so much more.

A good friend.

My father.

Someone mentioned the fact that as a child I had a “nickname.”  Was it Lisa?  Lissa?  (Yes, it was Lissa. )

The time went by so fast.  Before I knew it, 4 hours had past and I had been taken on a journey through various parts of my life.

I listened, laughed, cried…  Mostly I just remembered. I remembered things I had long forgotten.

It was an amazing experience.

Yes, I feel your scepticism.  I know that many people will think I’m silly and will question my intelligence, my sanity or both…  and that’s okay.

It was MY experience. It was real to me and that is really all that matters.

In the end does it really matter?  Does anyone really care what I believe in? Isn’t it about whatever makes each and every one of us happy, content, safe and secure?

Isn’t about whatever helps us through this crazy life?

As Frank Sinatra said,  “Basically, I’m for anything that gets you through the night – be it prayer, tranquilizers or a bottle of Jack Daniels.”  

Maybe even a Medium.

Peace Out














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