Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side (6 page)

to let his family know that he had survived his bodily death.

As you can imagine, having mediumistic abilities can place

you in some fairly compromising situations, and this was cer-

tainly the case with Gary. If a spirit goes to great lengths to make themselves known to me, I feel I owe it to them to find

out what they want and help them. I know that if I were in a

situation like Gary’s, I would seize whatever means I could to try and comfort my family. I knew that Gary wasn’t trying to

frighten me; I could sympathise with his predicament.

The problem lies in the fact that approaching someone

with the claim of being in contact with their deceased loved

one, can be met with all manner of responses. It’s impossible to gauge whether the revelation will be welcomed or rejected.

As a medium, this situation can make you very vulnerable.

There is the chance that you will be dredging up pain-

ful memories, or perhaps be dismissed as a fraud or a crank.

There is a lot to be fearful of when preparing to disclose this type of information.

Although Matilda and Callum were no longer dating, they

had maintained their relationship as friends. I asked Matilda

if she would consider broaching the subject with him. I just

couldn’t think of any other way to initiate contact with Gary’s family.

Although Matilda was worried about how Callum would

react to being told his brother was hanging out at the local

podiatrist’s house, she reasoned that she had no choice but to tell him. After all the effort Gary had gone to in order to make himself known to me, it wouldn’t have been fair for his visits to go unacknowledged. It took Matilda a couple of weeks to

summon up the courage to call Callum.

40 Gary

When my phone woke me at one in the morning, I

expected the worst. As Matilda’s name flashed urgently on the

touch screen, my first thought was that she was calling me in

a panic because Gary had paid her a visit.
Why else would she
be calling me in the middle of the night?
I fleetingly wondered whether Gary had been shaking her bed.

“Barbie,” she said excitedly.”I’ve done it … I’ve told Cal-

lum!”

Relief washed over me as Matilda continued chattering at

a mile a minute.

“I told him everything. From that first day we met when

Gary was sitting next to me, to how he was shaking your bed.

I told him that Gary wants him to know he’s OK …”

“And?” I asked hesitatingly. “How did it go down?”

“He believes us!” she said happily. “Callum reckons he

thought Gary was around anyway. This just goes towards

proving it all the more …”

I could almost feel Gary grinning at me in the darkness, I

just knew he’d be delighted that he had finally managed to get through to his family.

“And …” continued Matilda, “Callum wants to meet you!

He’s going to leave it until after Christmas and then he’s going to call you. He just needs to work out what he’s going to tell his parents.”

I finally felt as though Gary and I had made some headway

and it made me feel inordinately relieved. By the time I got

off the phone, I knew that regardless of what happened from

hereon, Matilda and I had honoured Gary’s visits as best we

could. Gary had reached out to me and I had in turn reached

out to his family. Matilda had been the catalyst and she’d fulfilled her role as mediator with aplomb.

Gary 41

As I write this, it’s been over a month since Matilda told

Callum about Gary’s visits. I’ve yet to hear from Callum and

his family and part of me suspects I may never do so. Regard-

less of whether or not Gary’s family contacts me, I feel as

though my job is done. Perhaps that’s as far as Gary wanted to take things, to simply pass on the message that he’s fine.

But if they do call, I’ll be ready and waiting; and I’m sure

Gary will be too. I have no doubt Gary will put his vibrant

energy to good use and physically prove his presence to his

family. But something tells me they might not need any fur-

ther proof; I suspect they’ve felt their beautiful son and brother beside them all along.

L o v e r g i r l

It wasn’t long before I was presented with another opportu-

nity to try table-tipping. My best friend, Lou’s grandmother

had passed away the previous week, after numerous bouts

of pneumonia over the course of her last four years. The

last years of Ivy’s life were spent in a fog of senility and poor health. In light of this, her death came as a bittersweet release for both Ivy and her family.

For those imprisoned within the state of dementia, memo-

ries and lucidity fade to the point where loved ones are some-

times thought to be strangers. Although Ivy’s senility had

taken a firm hold, there were however two faces Ivy still rec-

ognised; those of her daughter, Valerie and her son-in-law,

John. Ivy’s face would light up whenever they walked into the

room. The rest of the family weren’t quite as lucky, and Ivy

would politely enquire as to their identity whenever they came to see her.

43

44 Lover Girl

Seeing Ivy in this state was particularly painful for her

loved ones. In her prime, Ivy could be described as a cheeky

firecracker, whose quick wit and passion for her family were

always readily displayed. She also had a reputation as an incor-rigible flirt, which earned her the nickname of
Lover girl.
Ivy would laughingly refer to her granddaughters as
Lover girls
also, and the reciprocal nick names became quite the family

joke.

The way Ivy was in her final years was the antithesis of

how she had once been, and it broke her family’s hearts.

On Ivy’s last Christmas, her family were rewarded with a

startling surprise. Rather than the deadpan, non-responsive

version of Ivy they had come to expect, they were greeted by

a frailer version of the ebullient, smiling Ivy of old. Although Ivy was still a feeble figure nestled within the expanse of her bed, her cheekiness and clarity seemed to have miraculously

returned. In spite of not being able to speak, Ivy happily interacted with her stunned and delighted family.

Buoyed by the sight of their smiling grandmother, Lou and

her sisters regaled Ivy with an impromptu sing-along, launch-

ing into Ivy’s favourite Christmas carols with ever-increasing vigour. The normally sombre old people’s home was transformed by the raucous display, as the sisters’ voices carried

down the corridors with every ounce of festivity they could

muster.

After a while though, Ivy suddenly began to look agitated.

Lou began worrying that something was wrong and leaned

down to speak to her grandmother. Not noticing anything was

amiss, her sisters continued singing.

Lover Girl 45

“Are you OK, Lover girl?” asked Louise tenderly. Ivy was

now looking increasingly vexed and began mumbling in a

voice so low that Lou could barely hear her.

Ivy seemed to be muttering something under her breath.

A portrait of Ivy when she was a young woman.

Still struggling to hear, Lou asked if she would repeat her-

self. Ivy drew upon every skerrick of strength left within her and lifted her head up towards Lou.

“No more carols!” she hissed. They were the first and only

words Ivy had spoken in weeks.

Upon this, silence engulfed the room for a brief moment,

after which the family began to laugh. Ivy herself lay smiling in her bed, seemingly grateful that peace had been restored.

“Right then!” said Lou brightly, “that’s enough of the car-

olling!”

46 Lover Girl

A little while later, Ivy began staring at an area directly above her bed, with an expression so peaceful and happy it could best be described as rapture. As she continued to stare unblinkingly, her right arm (which had been all but immobile for as long as

anyone could remember) began to rise up from the bed.

Palm up and with the elbow perfectly straight, Ivy’s arm

lifted upwards, as though indicating some wondrous sight hov-

ering just beneath the ceiling. All the while, Ivy kept serenely smiling. She lay there with her arm in the air for several minutes, seemingly immune to the fatigue which surely must’ve

started to overcome it.

Her family looked towards the place where Ivy was gestur-

ing, and seeing nothing, began to theorise as to what was going on.

“She must be seeing the light!” said Lou, starting to feel

teary. “Maybe she’s about to go into the light!”

“Or is it Grandad?” asked Lou’s older sister, Vanessa.

“Maybe he’s come to get her …”

“Maybe she can see the spirit world!” someone suggested.

Either way, Ivy maintained her state of rapture without

sharing what she was actually seeing. She was so transfixed by the vision before her that her room and those in it, faded to

the point where she was once again oblivious to the material

world around her.

A little while later, Ivy became aware of the room once

again and beckoned to her daughter, Val. Val leaned in towards her mother, as Ivy desperately tried to form a sentence. But

try as she might, she just couldn’t get the words out.
No more
carols
were to be her final words.

Ivy’s secret was never to be revealed, as five days later she

passed away. The Christmas day gathering was to be Ivy’s last

hurrah. She left the world on her ninety third birthday.

Lover Girl 47

A week later, Lou came to see me, sharing with me the

snippets of Ivy’s final days. She told me that her parents made it to Ivy’s bedside just in the nick of time, and they hoped Ivy had been aware of their presence as she passed away. Lou

and her two sisters were not quite so lucky, arriving ten min-

utes after Ivy’s passing. The family sat at her bedside talking to their much loved mother and grandmother for a couple of

hours after she took her final breath. According to Lou, Ivy’s energy was still very present in the room.

It was a peaceful, loving transition and Lou hoped that Ivy

was aware of her loved ones around her as she passed away.

“We could always ask her,” I suggested. “It might be too

soon, but it’s worth a try.”

So with that intention, Lou and I sat at my small wooden

table, lit a white candle and asked if Ivy would like to come through.

We began by using the pendulum. Louise asked a series of

questions, until we were sure it really was Ivy we were speak-

ing to. Ivy identified her husband’s name, the sex and number

of her children, her brother’s name and the suburbs she had

lived in. She confirmed details of her life in general and of her final few days.

Ivy confirmed that she had waited for John and Valerie to

arrive at the nursing home before she died, and also told us

that she had been struggling to say something to her daughter

on Christmas day. When Lou asked what she had been trying

to tell her, Ivy told us that she wanted to make sure that Valerie knew how very much she loved her.

Lou also asked her if she had enjoyed the carolling on

Christmas day and her
NO
response couldn’t have been any clearer! By now we were convinced we were speaking to Ivy

and asked if she would like to try tipping the table.

48 Lover Girl

She responded with a strong and undeniable “YES!”

It wasn’t long before the table began to vibrate, upon

which Lou and I opened our eyes and began to spur Ivy on.

“Come on Lover girl,” encouraged Lou. “Show us what

you’ve got!”

The table lifted up from my side and tipped towards Lou’s

lap. Once it was lilting at a decent angle, it sat there suspended, as if propped up by invisible hands.

“Very good!” laughed Lou. “But are you just going to leave

it there? Can you do anything else?”

I asked Ivy if she could lift the table up onto one leg. But the table stayed teetering on its precarious angle, seemingly settled and unwilling to budge. I decided to get out the pendulum.

“Ivy, is that you holding the table up for us?”

“YES.”

“Thanks, that’s great!” I said. “Are you able to tip it right

over?”

“NO.”

“Are there any other spirits here with you?”

“YES.”

“Will you let them help you?”

“NO!”

Lou and I laughed, as this was typical of Ivy, very much the

show pony
and unwilling for anyone else to come in and steal her thunder.