Ghosts give me the willies… and I’m a medium…

Tuesday, 19 January 2021

I just finished watching Surviving Death on Netflix. The last two episodes gave me the willies… actually most of the episodes creeped me out, and I’m a psychic medium. I kid you not, while watching the ghost hunters episode, there was a sound in our house that sounded like a pipe knocking on a wall. Mom heard it too, as did the cats.

Usually, when things like that happen, I’m cool with it, knowing spirit is checking in, validating something we’re talking about. I think it felt creepy tonight because of the way the information was being shared on this show. It played “spooky” music, used creepy photos and visual effects eliciting a creepy feeling.

Animals, especially cats, can sense visitors from the spirit world. ©WQuinn 2021

I find my reaction funny, in retrospect. I’m reminded of a Saturday morning at the breakfast table. We were eating pancakes and it was that rare weekend when Dad was home. He worked shift work and often had to work weekends, so the times he was with us was that more special. He sat at the end of the table, I sat at the other end. My siblings to his left and Mom was at the sink or the stove. Dad announced Ernie stopped in for a visit last night.

Seems harmless enough, except uncle Ernie died in a car accident in 1971.

I remember silence followed. I think it took us a few moments to reconcile what was being said. And then I was overcome with uncontainable excitement. So many questions. What did he want? What did he say? What was he wearing? Where did he sit? Were you scared?

With humour and great patience, Dad answered my questions, to the best of his ability. I think I was 8 or 9 at the time.

And then suddenly I realized, a “ghost” had been in our house. And worse, he had to have walked by my room to get to Dad’s!

I begged Dad to tell uncle Ernie I say hi but please, please, please, don’t visit me!!!

I was so intrigued by his visit and yet terrified at the same time. I still get that way now when I think of waking up to someone in my room, or feeling a presence with me. That is, until spirit visits me, or I remember a visit. It’s not at all scary or spooky, and no willies.

It’s pure love, pure laughter, pure joy.

And I open my arms and my heart to more visits. (I’m looking at you uncle George and cousin George… February is around the corner, just saying.)

River view during my daily walk. ©WQuinn 2021

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