Here Today, Here Tomorrow

In July of 1986, a year after Grandpa passed away from a massive stroke at the age of 95, I had a persistent urge to attend the Spiritualist church, which I hadn’t attended in eleven years, being busy with the restaurant and not being much of a churchgoer generally, and frankly, forgetting all about it. But something kept urging me to go. My then boyfriend, Brandon, was not interested in going at all, having grown up in Salt Lake City and suffering the shunning that resulted from his family’s rejection of their inherited Mormon faith, and so, religion in general didn’t appeal to him, but he agreed to take me to the church, because I had developed a fear of crossing the Bay Bridge, a fear that became more pronounced in my thirties. While I did cross the bridge by myself when I had to, it was quite uncomfortable for me, experiencing predictable anxiety attacks in the form of a pounding heart, sweaty palms, and an overwhelming fear of death (or worse). I just thought too much about what I was doing. I’ve heard that this fear is not that uncommon. It’s probably a control issue, as when you’re on a bridge, you have to go with the flow – you can’t really stop or pull over. This is also true of some freeway driving, but to a lesser degree, as you can pull over if you need to. Certain freeway driving was also uncomfortable for me occasionally in those days. It’s also the speed and aggression of some drivers that’s disconcerting. While I’m still vigilant and drive defensively, I’m no longer afraid.

When it was time for the messages to be given, one of the mediums came immediately to me. I’ve learned, since this occurrence, it’s the persistent spirit that comes through more readily, and apparently my grandfather wanted to connect. This was the first message I’d personally received from a medium, although I’d witnessed many given to other people so many years earlier. She said, “There is a father’s rate of vibration here, who passed to spirit a year ago from a stroke.” This was him, this was my Grandpa who was the only father figure in my life. She said, “He wants to thank you for the time you spent with him, especially in his later years. He could never express to you how much this meant to him.” This also made sense, as I spent quality time with him and listened to his life stories, repetitive as they were in these later years, but I never let him know I’d heard them before, and I always gave him my attention. Then she said, “He brought you here to tell you not to be so afraid of life, that he can do more for you from the spirit world than he could from the earth plane.” She also said, “Don’t wish him back. He’s whole now.” Bingo! This was so evidential. Tears fell as I experienced what I had always intuitively believed - that the spirit does survive the death of the body. All of this was so true, except I never did wish him back, as much as I missed him, because I know he was ready to go at that advanced age. His vision was getting worse so he couldn’t read a newspaper. Once he told me that the worst part of getting old was that he could no longer dance. I love this. I got my love of dance from him.

After that evening, I would “put” Grandpa in the car with me, riding shotgun, as he had in the past while “alive,” and let him protect me from harm. I did indeed get over this fear thanks to him and to the medium for bringing him through to me. One more evidential word from him, she said, “He wants you to keep your head up and ‘let the sun shine on your pretty face.’ ” This sounded like something my Grandpa would have thought, but it wasn’t his style to say while here on earth. And he certainly did bring me to the church that evening.