Popcorn For The Dead
I love John Edwards. Doesn't everybody? His show brought a much needed closeness to those who have crossed over and those that they left behind. He took the mystical out of the equation and breathed life into the deceased that some of us had given up for...well...dead.
I have always felt that after someone passes on they are no less real than when they resided in the tangible. They are still with us, always. Hopefully not during EVERYthing, but around when we need them. They talk to us in signs and sometimes in words. That's why I like the pendulum as my preferred divination tool. You can ask yes/no questions or just wait for everything to be spelled out for you, literally.
I'd been using the pendulum for quite some time and had questions answered and guidance requests fulfilled and it had never occurred to me to ask every time who explicitly I was talking to. Not until I made contact with an interesting soul that chose to speak in German. Made me wish I'd payed more attention when my Dad suggested sprekin'de'douch'en'. It just seemed like too much work to speak a language that would never see it's homeland. At least not traveling between my confused lips.
Lately, I've been blessed by visits from my Dad. In case you're wondering what that has to do with the topic of the day, I'll tell you. He no longer wears glasses, or walks with a gimp, he doesn't balance check books any more or have to wash the stink off at the end of the day. I'm not really sure if there are days as we know them in the after-life. Apparently there is however, humor, as noted in the odd affirmation he made. It seems he always has to be funny, even if just a little. Like today when I asked him if he'd like to say something and he answered, "Yes, love popcorn". That is something I knew, but hadn't expected. Not in a zillion years did I ever think he would take a rare opportunity to reach across dimensions to tell me he loved popcorn. Maybe it was just his way of letting me know that yes, it was him. No entity masquerading as a friendly would think to say something so obscure and so trivial and so on target. If I wanted to hear something special, a tidbit very personal that only he would say to me, that would be it. That, or maybe, Your Uncle Harry cheats at poker.
So if any of your loved ones have left this plain, it doesn't mean they've left you, so listen to the whispers in the wind, that song they loved when it plays on the radio, and for Pete's sake make them some popcorn!
6/14/2005 1:57 AM
word count 488
I have always felt that after someone passes on they are no less real than when they resided in the tangible. They are still with us, always. Hopefully not during EVERYthing, but around when we need them. They talk to us in signs and sometimes in words. That's why I like the pendulum as my preferred divination tool. You can ask yes/no questions or just wait for everything to be spelled out for you, literally.
I'd been using the pendulum for quite some time and had questions answered and guidance requests fulfilled and it had never occurred to me to ask every time who explicitly I was talking to. Not until I made contact with an interesting soul that chose to speak in German. Made me wish I'd payed more attention when my Dad suggested sprekin'de'douch'en'. It just seemed like too much work to speak a language that would never see it's homeland. At least not traveling between my confused lips.
Lately, I've been blessed by visits from my Dad. In case you're wondering what that has to do with the topic of the day, I'll tell you. He no longer wears glasses, or walks with a gimp, he doesn't balance check books any more or have to wash the stink off at the end of the day. I'm not really sure if there are days as we know them in the after-life. Apparently there is however, humor, as noted in the odd affirmation he made. It seems he always has to be funny, even if just a little. Like today when I asked him if he'd like to say something and he answered, "Yes, love popcorn". That is something I knew, but hadn't expected. Not in a zillion years did I ever think he would take a rare opportunity to reach across dimensions to tell me he loved popcorn. Maybe it was just his way of letting me know that yes, it was him. No entity masquerading as a friendly would think to say something so obscure and so trivial and so on target. If I wanted to hear something special, a tidbit very personal that only he would say to me, that would be it. That, or maybe, Your Uncle Harry cheats at poker.
So if any of your loved ones have left this plain, it doesn't mean they've left you, so listen to the whispers in the wind, that song they loved when it plays on the radio, and for Pete's sake make them some popcorn!
6/14/2005 1:57 AM
word count 488
posted by Susan at 3:40 PM
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