style="font-size:15px;"> Oh my God. Was this Uncle Eric? This was the first communication since he’d died and we hardly dared believe it was true. Excitement hit the pit of my stomach and I felt both sick and slightly dizzy at the same time. We were convinced it was him but disappointingly, Sandra was not.
‘Well, you must test them, love. Always check that they are who they say they are. Go on, ask a question. Ask him something like, “What did he do for a living?” Find out if it’s really him.’
I didn’t want to. What if it was some fake spirit trying to trick us? I wanted to believe it was my uncle. We didn’t ask the question because the glass was already moving. It was spelling out a reply. SEW.
‘Sew? No, that can’t be right, can it?’ The medium exchanged confused glances with her friend. ‘Surely he means something else, he didn’t sew for a living did he?’
Debbie and I both nodded before explaining that Uncle Eric did sew for a living; he was an upholsterer. I’d been trying to think of a short word which might suggest the answer, and the word which sprung to mind was upholstery. Not short exactly. Debbie was thinking of the word SOFA, but SEW was just fine too. We both started laughing in a hysterical sort of way. Sew was a good word. It gave us what we needed. He’d passed the test. It really was Eric.
We asked a lot more questions. At one point both Sandra and Janice lifted their fingers off the glass. Debbie and I were aware that the glass continued to move even after they had done so, although it moved a little slower. We were working the glass with the spirits, Debbie and I. Maybe, just maybe, we could do this at home? Perhaps we didn’t need the medium after all – can we talk to the spirits, just the two of us, any time we wanted to?
I honestly don’t remember much else. We chatted some more. I think I’d reached saturation point. We’d already received so much proof and I couldn’t wait to go home and tell everyone about it.
Again, I know that other relatives came through. We still have the notes somewhere. After the medium ‘closed down’ the communication on the table I was ready to go home, but she was ready for more. I looked at my watch and we’d now been at her house for over three hours. We’d certainly had our money’s worth, and I was tired. She was so kind, wanting to make sure we were happy with our evening.
‘We didn’t have time to do the spirit in the mirror,’ the medium said, almost disappointed.
We knew what ‘spirit in the mirror meant’, as our friend had told us about this after her own visit. Sandra turned out all but a small red light and we squinted at the mirror.
‘Soften your eyes. Can you see anything? Is there anyone in the mirror?’
The idea was that in the half light you could often see spirit images overlay your own. It wasn’t that they distorted your face so much as the spirit face seemed to float over your own. I was only half listening. This was a fascinating exercise but there was nothing left in me to give. I’d already put on my coat and my mind was ‘on the way home’. We decided to call it a day … or a night.
We walked down the stairs, both of us in a slight daze. What an extraordinary night! It was one I don’t think I will ever forget. I’d had paranormal experiences all of my life. I always believed there must be something else going on in the world – another world, another life, an afterlife. There was no longer any doubt. I knew there was something else, something out there, something in there.
As for Eric, this was the first of many visits. We handed over our very small fee to the medium on our way out. It seemed way too little for the time she’d spent on us. I pressed another five pound note into her hands but she refused the money. I insisted. I felt the evening was worth a lot more and eventually she took the money, but handed it over to her friend Janice.
‘Thank you both. It’s been a great evening.’
As we drove home we talked about the night. Was it too late to call at Mum’s on the way home? It was late and we agreed we’d both go over as soon as Debbie finished work the next day. There was a lot to share, and a long list of things to check out. Our loved ones live on after they pass, and after tonight, I knew for sure.
Going It Alone
Nothing happens unless first a dream.
Carl Sandburg
Top priority was calling my sister Dilly in Cornwall the following morning. I remember working with the list and going over every detail of what happened the night before.
‘Honestly, Dill, Debbie and I were moving the glass on our own. We did it, just the two of us. I really feel we should all visit Cornwall and try this for ourselves!’ I rushed on.
‘I think you should all visit too. Come down and we can have a go together.’
‘Are you sure? I really want to.’
‘Yes, but Nick will want to join in too.’
It was agreed. The sisters would visit Cornwall and we would communicate with our deceased relatives using a spirit board we would make ourselves. Nick was my brother-in-law. Of course he should sit with the sisters whilst we made contact. We were going to his house after all! But I was concerned about my nephews, Dilly’s boys. In the back of my mind, I still thought the communication might be dangerous in some way. I remembered tales of adventurous teens who’d communicated with spirits in the way we had … but their experiences were negative. Some of them had written to me on my website.
One girl told me the curtains in her living room were standing on end and things were thrown about the room by annoyed spirits. A teenage boy said when his friends used a spirit board the pointer spelt out that one of them would die. They were terrified and I didn’t blame them. Surely we were doing something different. We’d be careful.
I felt exhausted. This was the world’s most exciting discovery, wasn’t it? I felt like I’d landed on the moon. Why don’t more people know about this communication secret? Surely anyone with a few letters and a glass could prove the existence of an afterlife. It really did seem that simple.
Later that afternoon, in the warmth of the afternoon sun shining through the living room window, I fell asleep. My mind needed to try and assimilate the awesomeness of the experience of the day before, and when I awoke a few hours later my mind was clearer. I needed to try and do some research about the safest way to make contact using this method. Would I find anything on the internet? I felt sure there were rules we needed to follow.
Picking up my notebook and pen I began to make notes on my own, even before I’d logged onto the computer: ‘clear room, light a candle, bring in the light using appropriate words, use frankincense; add pictures of angels to the table’ I began. I’d no idea where my inspiration was coming from but it seemed as if I had a ‘knowing’on some deep inner level. Perhaps I’d made contact in other lifetimes; I already seemed to know what we had to do.
‘Stay polite, ask for specific types of communication, invite relatives, don’t ask for just “anyone”, INTENT.’ What did I mean by that? What you give out is what you get back. If you ask for just anyone to talk to you then that is whom you are inviting … anyone. We didn’t want to talk
