This story is a personal one of re-connection, and because it’s my story…I have already started crying, writing it (really a bit pathetic as I am sitting in the cafe). You see my reconnecting with my father was the direct result of my great- grandmother “Grammy Brown”, who was my fathers grandmother & mother for she raised him and his brothers. As I said, I went 13 years without speaking to my father. I knew he lived in Sacramento, CA but that was all I knew. While experiencing my major opening to Spirit during the November Incident I saw my father in a hospital room sitting on the side of the bed. I saw this while journeying and I know that what I was seeing was real. I also know that he felt me in the room, although he did not know it was me he was feeling. This was the beginning of an onslaught of serious badgering that only my grandmother could give me, for I am not pushed easy. She was only able to push me because I loved her so much I would pretty much do anything for her.
My grandmother started visiting me regularly and she would tell me stories. Stories of my life and stories of my fathers life. My dad grew up hard, poor and living with his grandmother whom he loved more then anything. He signed up for the Marine Corp @ 17 and went to Vietnam to help my grandmother put food on the table and raise his brothers. The stories my grandmother told me kept coming back to the same point…my father was a better father then the father he had, and he did the best he was capable of. She also pointed out that wounds were easier healed while one of the people involved was still alive. Pretty much saying that if I waited until he was dead, as a Medium I was still going to have to deal with it but I would most likely have more regrets. *My bit of advice here folks is mend fences. The pain, regret and remorse does not go away because someone dies, it stays and picks at us. If you have unfinished business and one of the people is dead, go see a Medium…get that stuff taken care of. HEAL!* My grandmothers nights of persuasion won out. I wrote my father a letter, and sent him a scrapbook filled with pictures of my life including art work from my kids. The one sticking point was I did not have his address. Because I didn’t know how he would react, I did not want to involve other family members. I didn’t want to call anyone asking for his address, so my grandmother gave it to me.
Weeks went by before I heard from him. In the time of waiting I thought he had decided that he was not interested in reconnecting with me. When I received his letter, he said he was sorry it had taken him so long to get back to me but that the package had been sent to the wrong address. When I finally talked to him, he said that the street address was one number off…I laughed and told him that was pretty good since I had gotten it from his dead Grandmother. I am ever thankful to my Grammy Brown for her tenaciousness. Without her continuing push for forgiveness, I would have missed out on years of love with my dad. I do regret the 13 years of absence, but am ever thankful for the 10 years I got. Hope you enjoyed the read folks.