posted on Apr, 29 2010 @ 07:51 AM
I haven't posted for a number of years now, I got fed up with the blatant elements on here that diluted the good work that many were trying to do
with their fictional imaginations... intro over ;-) The story below I wanted to share.
On the 7th April 2008 my father passed away aged 64 years old. He had terminal lung cancer, this had been diagnosed on his birthday on the 21st March
2008. A week after he was diagnosed he developed pneumonia. The infection was aggressive and within 3 weeks he was gone. His final day was spent in a
coma, the first remarkable thing to do with his death happened. A few moments before he died, having shown no signs of life apart from breathing - he
opened his eyes and turned to my mother and smiled, squeezed her hand that was holding his and then he was gone.
My father was a man of few emotional words, all though he showed his love for my sister and I in his actions, he was, to me anyway, a truly incredible
man. My personal journey since then has centred on not knowing if and how proud of me he was mixed with a sense of anger and sadness that after so
many years of hardship he was taken just when his dreams were within reach.
I have all ways suffered from emotional anxiety, after the death of my father I went through a period of extreme emotional strength as I had to deal
with the estate and support my devastated mother. The strength didn't last though and the anxiety turned into panic attacks and a spiral into a deep
state of sadness, but I couldn't cry.
I apologise for the length of this, but it needs its context to validate the spiritual experience I went through.
My partner has been spiritual for many years, I have had an interest, but was essentially a non-believer. Seeing the state I was getting into
emotionally and personally she suggested I went to see a medium to try and get some of the answers I so clearly needed. I got in touch with the local
Spiritualist church and was given an appointment with a medium called Dawn Price in Leicester (UK). The night that I arranged the reading I sat in the
lounge holding my baby son at about 1am and I cried, a deep racking cry that simply would not stop - my partner came down and after some time calmed
me down. I felt very unusual, but calmer.
The day of the reading came and to say I was nervous was an understatement, my mental state was in tatters and I had built this occasion up to be the
answer to my problems.
My partner took a reading first, and came out feeling as though nothing had happened, she had a lsit of six name - none of which meant anything to
Then I went in.
Dawn was a lovely, gentle lady and made me feel at ease within minutes. Then it began.
She told me she had a tall gentleman with her who had a family tie to me, my heart went bonkers - I had built this up so much. She told me this man
had passed over and when he did that he had pain in his chest and a dry mouth. I had spent 3 days wetting his lips due to the oxygen mask. She then
told me that I felt strongly that he had been taken too early, that it was unfair. He said to tell me it was his time and he was where he was supposed
to be. He then said he felt very uncomfortable as he had never believed in any of this – that was true. I was then told he wished he had told me
more how he felt about me and that he was proud of what I had done with the business (I took over the family business when he died) – knowing he was
proud of me and the way she said it to me calling me ‘lad’, only he ever called me that and done so for many many years.
She then said I was nervous, anxious (picking up on my panic condition) followed by ‘You won’t have a heart attack’. My one biggest fear
because of the chest pain that is a symptom of panic disorder was that I would have a heart attack.
She then said did the name Alan mean anything, he was my uncle who had had a triple heart bypass. She said he had the same fear as me and I should
Then she said, “you know when you were sat on the sofa crying?”, “that was your father putting his arm around you to get the emotion out of
She mentioned his best friend, Ken – who was with him, my gran, referred to as the ‘one I knew’, I only ever knew one. That I had 3 boys – 2
big, 1 little. That I wasn’t getting on with my sister because of how she was after his death and that I should forgive her and understand that she
dealt with it in another way.
My mother had been telling me ever since he died that she was seeing strange things in the house and all ways started the conversation with “ooh, it
made me jump.....” He wanted me to say sorry to her for making her jump.
All the usual stuff has been happening to, vivid images of him when I am asleep, white feathers in the strangest of places and so on.
Why have I written all this? The reason is because my life was falling to pieces emotionally and I wasn’t happy inside. I walked out of that room
filled with a sense of safety and security and my anxiety was gone and still is. I haven’t found religion – I don’t believe in ‘God’ and
‘Jesus’, but I do believe this life is not the end now and that is an incredible feeling.
I was a maths wizz at school and I understand probability implicitly, I know that the chance surrounding the number of accurate personal messages she
gave me is incalculable. The main thing for me was her mannerism; she used his inflexions and terminology when she spoke to me.
You don’t all ways need to find the answers inside yourself, sometimes you have to be given them – and that it is what my father did for me on