Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side Barbara Parks (good e books to read .txt) 📖

that perhaps I could at least show her the light and she could decide from there. I told her I would arrange for someone to

come and show her the way to cross over, but she didn’t have

to go if she didn’t want to.

The little girl didn’t give me any indication as to whether

she was amenable to the idea, but I decided to arrange for

someone who specialises in ghost rescue to come to the clinic

regardless. I expect it was more than a little coincidental that Seance at the Clinic 147

my friend Leni was raving about such a person just a few days

earlier and had given me his card. According to Leni, Ravi is

an incredibly gifted medium, the likes of whom she had never

experienced in her seventy years. I felt that Ravi was the right person to call, if not to help cross the little girl cross over, to at least give me more insight as to who she was and why she had

so steadfastly attached herself to me.

Our Friday night séance also gave my spirit friend Gary a

further opportunity to come through.

As soon as the table was free, Gary stepped in and asserted

himself with his usual sense of humour. I told my guests that

Gary was probably one of the best table tippers I’d ever met

and to prepare to be impressed. He assured me he wouldn’t let

me down.

I really should’ve expected Gary to join us all along, since

his father, Steve had been the last patient of the day. Gary

must’ve gotten wind of my impending séance and decided to

hang around.

Once he identified himself, Gary couldn’t wait to start

moving the table. He began by systematically tipping it

towards the ladies, ensuring that his attentions were shared

equally amongst them.

“What about poor Andrew?” I asked. “Why don’t you tip

the table towards him?”

The table kept moving steadily, but it simply wouldn’t tip

towards Andrew. The more we asked for Gary to do so, the

more steadfastly he tipped it the other way.

“Awww, Come on mate!” implored Andrew light-heartedly.

“How about sending a bit of love this way?”

“How about it?” I asked Gary. “Is Andrew going to get any

attention or not?”

148Seance at the Clinic

A moment later, the table legs began to scrape across the

tiles, and in one swift motion it had slid across the floor directly towards Andrew. It wedged itself between his legs, after which it tipped straight into his lap.

Andrew laughed as he thanked Gary for the attention, and

moved his chair backwards to release himself. Without hesi-

tation the table skidded towards him once again, and tipped

itself straight back into Andrew’s lap. By now we were all

laughing. It seemed our amusement was egging Gary on. Each

time Andrew moved away from the table, it skidded across the

floor tiles and into his lap once again.

By the time we decided to finish proceedings, we were all

feeling elated albeit drained. Interactions such as we experi-

enced that evening are reminders that death is hardly the great divide we sometimes imagine it to be. Spirits are very much like ourselves, with the same sense of joyousness and humour. Physical death doesn’t alter the true essence of the person; the spark which is the true self invariably remains the same.

Death can be likened to trading in an old and run-down car

for a new one. The soul’s vehicle has simply been upgraded to

a higher vibrational, superior model; but the driver remains the same. Although going by my interactions with spirits like Gary, I suspect many of the “drivers” feel much happier in their new cars!

chapter nineteen

S h i r l e y ’ s F u n e r a l

There is no doubt that funerals are amongst life’s saddest

events. But imagine if there was some joy to be gleaned from

the loss, if there was hope amongst the heartache …

Shirley’s death from a sudden heart attack came as a great

shock. Despite being eighty two years of age, Shirley was as

bright and engaging as ever, and seemed to be enjoying the best of health.

Only two days earlier, her daughter Kelly and I were extol-

ling Shirley’s vast list of virtues, as well as laughing at her lifelong obsession with going to the movies. Shirley was a cinema

stalwart; not a week went by without her seeing at least two

of the latest movies. Her family joked that she was Greater Union’s best customer, and probably suspected it was likely to be true.

149

150Shirley’s Funeral

The cinema-loving, international traveller,

Shirley; pictured with her daughter, Kelly.

As well as being my dear friend, Kelly’s mother, Shirley

was also one of my patients. As such we grew close over the

course of several years. I never tired of hearing her reviews of the latest films. Shirley kept every ticket stub and wrote notes on each and every movie she ever attended. I imagine this

went some way towards keeping her mental faculties remark-

ably intact.

Shirley made sure she saw every new movie regardless of

genre; dramas, cartoons, comedies and horror flicks, she was

an authority on them all.

“What about the Paranormal Activity movies?” I asked her.

“Surely you haven’t been to see those?”

“Of course I have!” she laughed.

I was incredulous, as despite my real-life experiences with

the other-side, the Hollywood depiction of hauntings easily

left me terrified.

“And …?” I asked. “What did you think of them?”

“They were weak,” said Shirley. “Didn’t scare me one bit!”

Shirley’s Funeral 151

I was relaying this conversation to Kelly on the weekend of

Shirley’s passing, as we sat up chatting after dinner. Never for a moment did we imagine that less than forty eight hours later,

Shirley would be dead.

As far as the family could make out, Shirley had made her-

self a hot chocolate and settled into her armchair to watch a movie. She must have collapsed shortly after, as when her son, Mark found her, her hot chocolate was still warm.

Shirley’s family were distraught, unable to comprehend the

suddenness of her passing. The numerous eulogies at Shirley’s

funeral attested to how very adored she was. Her grandson,

Kiran even composed a song for her,