When I was talking to my dad about my blog tonight, he was telling me how wonderful it was to read about his mother, Ida, one of my guides. It reminded me of another story about her (there is one in the post “Day One”). This was my first experience with her as a guide.
When Ida passed, she willed a diamond out of her wedding ring to me and one to my sister. It was to be given to us on our sixteenth birthdays. On mine, my parents had the diamond made into a beautiful silver pendant. I wore that necklace around my neck 24 hours a day, seven days a week until I was 22. Then disaster struck. At least to me. I had taken it off for a chest X-ray, and left it in the dressing room! I didn’t even notice it was missing for a few minutes. But by the time I made it back to the dressing room, it was long gone. Everyone claimed to know nothing.
That night, I went into my room and sobbed for hours. I kept crying and saying out loud “I’m so sorry grandma….now you won’t be with me” I was devastated. In the middle of my meltdown, I suddenly took a quick, involuntary intake of breath and looked up. I had heard her “voice” in my left ear (which was just a very loud thought…but in her voice, not mine). She said “Sherri dear, you don’t need the necklace to have me close to you”
I was instantly drained of grief. In fact, I was filled with joy. My suspicions were confirmed. The dead are accessible. At least to me they are….well, the ones that count, and the occasional stranger, like the one I helped to get to the other side (First Encounter). And she has kept that promise. I didn’t need the necklace to have her near me. She is always there. Sometimes, it’s irritating…sorry dad.
No comments:
Post a Comment