What’s Outside the Box?

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Bigstock_5447396My mother could foretell death, my daughter described her own death in heartbreaking detail a month before it happened, we had a family Banshee and my aunts tended to communicate by telepathy.  In short, we were Irish, so none of that was beyond the Pale of plausibility.

You can imagine why, coming from such a family, my being somewhat psychic didn’t seem particularly noteworthy to me in childhood, just interesting. I could frequently see glimpses of things before they happened, and had Far Memory of other lifetimes that were quite specific.  Continue reading “What’s Outside the Box?” »

Posted on January 25th 2013 in Alternative Healing, Complimentary medicine, Family, Metaphysics

The Family Plot

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DSC01568It occurred to me today, as I found myself standing in the middle of the family plot talking to the people I love who are no longer with me except in spirit and memory, that anyone not Irish might  consider it odd to find comfort in a cemetery.  Yet, I always do.

I’d gone there to to talk to my family about life  and I’d brought coffee because they’d loved it and because I thought it might be a lengthy conversation. A middle-aged woman passing by smiled and waved at me from the road below. “I’m so happy to see I’m not the only one who brings coffee when I come to chat, ” she called out and we both laughed at the loveable absurdity of the scene.

Maybe it’s the fact that we used to visit old graveyards when I was a child – admiring the tumbledown tombstones, scrying the inscriptions, imagining the heartaches both recent and long ago.  So much history captured in moldering memorials – died in childbirth… lost in infancy… gone but not forgotten… we will miss you forever so much of love and anguish preserved forever in a line or twoI used to wander from stone to stone reading the messages, imagining lives. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve lost so many  of those dearest to my heart that makes this a place of solace for me. Continue reading “The Family Plot” »

Posted on January 12th 2013 in Death, Family, Life, Sorrow

My Alone Time with the Tree

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chair-0155:00 a.m.

It’s just me and the tree.  The house is quiet.  Nobody else loves the morning as I do, since my father’s gone.  There’s snow on the ground and sleet has turned the trees outside to fairyland, ice palaces crisscrossing my front yard, transforming the winter-blue light into a magical dreamscape.

I throw a log on the fire and warm my hands that have carried the wood in from the porch.  The fragrance of the coffee pot tumbles memories out of their store house in my heart. Continue reading “My Alone Time with the Tree” »

Posted on January 4th 2013 in Family, Life
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