Talk to Me Read online

  Allison told me my mum was talking about the necklaces and a ring. I don’t wear much jewellery, but the jewellery I do wear has a special story or meaning behind it. My parents gave me a ring for my college graduation. I wear it all the time, and I think of them whenever I look at it. I also have two necklaces that I take turns wearing. I remember one morning I put on my diamond necklace. Later that day, my parents called me with the news that my dad had cancer. I made a decision to keep wearing that necklace until my dad got better. Several months later, the necklace broke—it was the day my dad’s doctor told us there was nothing else he could do for my father. That necklace had been a symbol of hope for me, so the irony of it breaking on the day the doctors were giving up was remarkable. I believe my mum was telling me she knew my jewellery has an emotional connection to them.

  When Allison was speaking with my dad, he kept saying his name ‘times two’. She asked who else in the family had my dad’s name. My brother’s middle name is Timothy, after my dad. She said that was Dad’s way of acknowledging my brother.

  She also said there was a strong tie with my dad’s shoes, and asked if my brother had a pair of his old shoes. At first, I took it literally, and was puzzled as I didn’t know if my brother actually had a pair of my dad’s shoes and how that could be significant. But then I realised it could be interpreted figuratively, too—and that couldn’t be more spot-on. My brother idolised my dad so much and, having chosen the same career path, he has stood in our dad’s shoes. My brother works for the same newspaper our father worked for, and is constantly saying that he is proud to follow in Dad’s footsteps and hopes he makes him proud, too.

  Allison told me Dad was saying my brother wouldn’t ‘get’ this process. When I’d spoken to my brother about my first reading with Allison, he didn’t believe it. The fact that Dad pointed out my brother’s scepticism let me know he was there for our conversations.

  My dad had been gone for six years and my mum four years when Allison first read for me. At the time, my family thought we had resolved any remaining issues regarding their estate, but Allison told me Dad was saying there was still money tied up in the estate that hadn’t been dispersed. Three days after that reading, I got a letter regarding an unclaimed account of theirs. We are currently in the process of recovering that money.

  Allison described my dad very well. She said that he came off as being very tough, but would bend over backwards for us. She also chuckled and said he was very sarcastic. The way she explained him further reassured me that she was, indeed, seeing my dad.

  Holidays were always special in our house and we had many traditions. Every Easter, for example, we would decorate eggs together. The night before Easter, after we kids went to sleep, my dad would go outside and hide the brightly coloured eggs. We lived in the mountains of Colorado, but no matter how cold and snowy it was, he would go out in the dark and climb around hiding those eggs for us to find the next morning. It made me smile when Allison said my dad loved Easter and all of the activities involved with the holiday.

  My parents also always made a huge deal out of birthdays. For that one day, the world revolved around you and anything you wanted. My dad only ever wanted one thing on his birthday: German chocolate cake. So it didn’t surprise me when Allison said that Dad was telling her how much he loved sweets and cake, especially on his birthday. But not just any cake, he said, it had to be a special cake. I knew exactly what she was talking about.

  We always had dogs and cats while I was growing up, so it made sense that Allison said my parents were surrounded by pets. When Allison directly told me that she saw my dad with a dog with light, curly hair named Buffy, my jaw dropped. Allison had described our family’s dog exactly, even his name! I still get shivers when I think about this.

  I was very close to my parents, and when I moved out of home I still talked to them on the phone often, especially my mum. Even now I sometimes find myself thinking, ‘Oh, I need to call Mum and talk to her about . . .’ and then quickly remember that I can’t. Allison told me that Mum also missed talking to me on the phone and she would be messing with my phone to let me know she was around. About four or five times a week, our phone rings with a weird sequence of rings. There is no rhyme or reason behind this, and it is completely random. It doesn’t happen when certain people call or at a certain time of day. I hung up the phone after my second reading with Allison and later that afternoon the phone made its now familiar, obnoxious ring sequence. Rather than being annoyed by it as I previously was, I smiled and thought of chatting on the phone with my mum.

  After I graduated from high school, my parents moved from Colorado to the sunny weather of California. The selling point of their new house was the rosebushes in the backyard. The garden was filled with flowers, and my parents spent many hours taking care of their roses. I almost got tired of hearing about those roses whenever I would call. Apparently my mum is still talking about her roses. She told Allison she loved her rose garden and wanted me to plant some roses for her so we could have somewhere for our ‘private’ talks. I have now started a rose garden, not only to honour my mum but to communicate with her.

  At first I thought the similarities between the two readings were uncanny, but then I realised that Allison visited with the same two people and saw the same things. It’s just like if I were to visit a couple down the street; if I went back a few weeks later, I’d see the same thing.

  Both readings brought up some identical messages: my parents saw me as seven years old; Mum said I was a very stubborn person and I needed to let my guard down; she mentioned that Mother’s Day was important to her and she loved it when we honoured her with flowers. Mum also said I wasn’t going to die the way she did or suffer like she had. My mum knew what a heavy burden her illness and death had been, and she said she was sorry.

  In each reading, Allison told me that my parents like to be in the car with me. This didn’t surprise me, as we had a family joke about the number of hours we spent in the car ‘just driving’ while out for an adventure of some kind. As similar as I was to my parents, a major difference between us was our political views. I listen to a lot of talk-back radio, and my husband always jokes that my parents would be very disappointed in me. So I had to chuckle when Allison told me that although they liked being in the car with me, they didn’t like what I was listening to on the radio. In the second reading, Allison asked me why they were talking about being in the new car. I explained that just two days earlier, I had bought a new car.

  In both readings, Allison saw my parents leaning up against a jukebox. They were hippies in the 60s and 70s, and we always joked about how terrible their music was. Allison spoke of my mum’s love of music, especially 70s music. I have kept Mum’s records from the 70s and she told Allison she wanted them to be played and enjoyed!

  My dad really enjoyed movies, and this was also mentioned in the readings. He loved renting movies and watching them with the family. He almost took offence if we didn’t sit and watch his movie with him, and it was a running joke in our family. My dad couldn’t believe that I had never seen It’s a Wonderful Life, and every Christmas he would urge me to see it. But the busyness of the Christmas season would always take over, and I have yet to see the movie. Even after his death, Dad found a way to nag me about it. Allison said that Dad was once again telling me to watch It’s a Wonderful Life, and he wanted me to know that that’s what he and my mum wanted for my life.

  Dad also kept making references to his old T-shirts, and this really made me laugh. My dad loved his T-shirts! He had quite a collection of them, including many from Hard Rock Cafés across the world and some with logos that annoyed my mum. There were several that Mum called his ‘forbidden T-shirts’, and she would refuse to go into public with him if he wore them. After my dad passed away, I made a quilt for myself and each of my siblings, and in each quilt I included the forbidden shirts. My quilt means a lot to me, and even more after hearing my dad talk about his annoying shirt collection. Allis
on said Dad is still wearing those shirts, and I’m sure Mum is oh-so-pleased!

  Throughout the readings, Allison emphasised how in love my parents were with each other, as much now as ever. She said they hoped I could have what they had. My dad wanted to make sure I was treated right. That was his concern when he was alive, so it’s reassuring for me to know he still says that.

  As well, Allison said several times that my parents just wanted me to be happy. She also told me my mum said I should not be so hard on myself. I have always struggled with this, so it was helpful to hear those comforting words. After the readings, I was speaking to one of my friends about my parents’ wishes for my happiness. My friend had never told me this before, but while my mum was sick in the hospital, she went to visit her and Mum said, ‘All Jill’s dad and I want is for Jill to be happy.’ I am happy, Mum and Dad.

  In the readings, Allison was able to pass on many facts about my parents, which is what this ‘pragmatic’ person needed to hear. But above and beyond that, she brought through their personalities and their hearts. They were kind-hearted, free-spirited and loving people. They always wanted the best for us, their kids. They tried to live every day like it was the last, appreciated what they had, laughed, and loved those close to them. That was, and still is, my mum and dad. I have so much peace knowing they are still ‘living’ that way today. I am proud to have carried on many of the values they instilled in me. They taught me that life is short; don’t forget to stop and enjoy it. I hope to honour them and learn from them and live each day of my life with the outlook that they both have.

  3

  Spirits and children

  Every seminar on my tour carries a ‘theme’. Sometimes it’s predominantly ‘loss of father’, other times ‘suicide’ will be the majority of the readings. This isn’t planned; it’s just how it works. The other side draws together people who have common energy, who carry common pain.

  When I was in Texas in 2010, I had a three-city tour in a four-day period. I found the three cities had something more in common than sharing a state; all three events had a heart-wrenching theme—‘loss of children’.

  I always ask my audiences to reach out to one another during my events and console their neighbour if they feel inclined to do so, because we are all connected and should be that shoulder-to-cry-on when we can. One of my events was in Austin, Texas, and the people were really friendly, but as usual my life gravitates to the news, and this was no exception. My manager and cousin Mark and I were travelling from Houston and the national headline of the day was that an airplane had f lown into an Internal Revenue Service building in Austin.

  I turned to Mark and jokingly said, ‘You don’t suppose that was next to our hotel, do you?’

  Well, as it turned out, it was, and the media circus and police presence were so fierce we couldn’t even get to our hotel. We had to take a crazy detour and pass right by the burned building. The sight of it made one grateful to be alive, as we stared at the black hole that was the cancer on the building where a day ago the buzz of everyday life had been. Helicopters hovered like birds around the crime scene. The town was in disarray, and I only hoped that the next night would be calm for my audience, who had already been rocked to their emotional core through their own losses.

  Fortunately, everything worked out just fine, and the ballroom began to fill up on the night of my event while, one by one, I shared time with the usual excited, nervous line of people at my book-signing table. By the way, I have some truly good-looking fans, and that’s on the inside and out—really quality people.

  Anyway, I finished signing books for the crowd and began the show, talking about different ways one can die. I asked the audience to raise their hands if they were there for a murder, and then those who had lost children. Unfortunately, a few hands remained up, meaning these people had lost a child to murder.

  My manager Mark works the microphone and he seemed pulled to a woman with sad eyes named Gail. She came up to the stage and sat in a chair next to me. I wrote her name at the top of my notepad, and she told me that she wanted to connect to her daughter.

  For those of you who haven’t seen me do a reading, I use a technique called ‘automatic writing’; that is, I put a pencil to paper and ‘scribble’ whatever comes to me. It helps me to focus my energy. As I brought the little girl through, I did occasionally become distracted by an audience member crying for Gail or an empathetic heart breaking in time with hers.

  Gail’s daughter kept showing me the number ‘17’, but it wasn’t resonating with us why that number was so important to her daughter. We continued regardless. The little girl told me that the man who murdered her had a male friend who, during the crime, knew that it was going on. I found this very disturbing. She kept talking about being around the detectives who worked her case, and how every detective has that one case they never forget or get over—the one they take to the grave—and she is that case for them. She also wanted to thank them for working so hard and caring so much.

  After the event, Mark talked to Gail and she told him the detective was actually in the audience that night, and he had said that ‘17’ was how many days the girl’s body was missing.

  This reading hit me like a cement slab to the face. Gail’s daughter was twelve years old when she disappeared; my daughter is also twelve years old. It becomes very personal to me when I connect with parents who have their kids ripped from them. I have to believe justice will be served one way or another for the innocent. As for the perpetrators, well, we won’t go into that here.

  People ask me why I prefer doing readings for ‘trauma’ survivors. My answer is that I want to help the people whom others stay away from, the ones no one knows what to say to, those who become a part of this ‘private invisible club’ of people who lose their children and decide to die with them. They’re physically here, but emotionally they need to be resuscitated, understood, heard out and reminded to stay open to their babies and to also open their eyes to life, because those whom we lose physically continue to live with us soulfully.

  FAMILY TIES BEYOND DEATH

  I remember meeting Lyman and Sheila for the first time. It was for an in-person reading. It struck me that if you saw them walking down the street, you wouldn’t realise they had been taken apart by tragedy. Their energy was so cool and upbeat, but doing what I do, I could see in their eyes that something was missing from their lives. That something was their son Michael.

  When I book readings, I obviously don’t want details about the person who has passed because it taints what I get, and that makes for a weaker reading. Michael’s parents’ experience with me is chronicled below, and I think what they share is the most important part of what you need to know about their son. I don’t want to detract from their account of the reading, so I’ll keep this brief.

  In my books I include the words of the people who I have read for because you can relate to them, since they’ve been through what you have. I find it important to hear from someone who can understand your pain entirely. For those of you who haven’t been through this sort of loss, I think you can empathise with the people sharing their stories. In turn, this empathy you feel towards them is like you’re sending their heart a ‘get well’ card. It’s a positive exchange of energy from you to them. Also, I like to give the person coming through centre stage, so the living can better know what happens to us when we die, learning about it from those who’ve been through it.

  Michael came through easily enough. He was focused on his family and answering the questions he surely hears run through their minds every day since his passing. He gave the feeling of pressure to my throat and an inability to breathe. I tried to convey this with sensitivity to his parents. How a person felt when they passed is often something they need to share in a reading without throwing in hurtful details.

  Michael talked lovingly about how proud he is to have Lyman and Sheila as his parents and how lucky he was to have them in his life. He was firm about still being par
t of the family and spending most of his time around them. He gave the name of one of his friends who knows more about the incident than he’s saying, but for legal reasons I will not include it here. He was very fond of his ‘black truck’, and teasing his sister. There were many details shared in his reading, but what it comes down to is that he was able to orchestrate a reading with me for his parents. He needed to reach them badly and Michael moved heaven and earth to do so. It’s nice to know that our children need to stay connected to us every bit as strongly as we need to hold on to them. We are indivisible by death . . . they are our children and nothing can truly take them from us, ever.

  SHEILA’S STORY

  Our 23-year-old son Michael was a vibrant loving young man with many attainable goals. He passed away from what we believe to be foul play. The police determined it ‘appeared’ to be suicide. We should point out that no detective was called to the scene. Instead, we have an FBI forensic specialist and her team who have begun to assist us in putting together all the facts, in the hope the district attorney will open the case. We never expected that we’d have to conduct an investigation on our own. To this date the district attorney has turned down two separate requests to open a case. So we will wait for the final autopsy report that we commissioned, and attempt it again. Getting a suicide ruling overturned is like pushing a boulder up a hill with your nose!

  On 24 May 2009, Michael had lunch with his sister Jordan and me at our favourite deli in Northwest Portland. I had already had a quick bite to eat earlier but for some reason I felt the impulse to call Michael to see if he’d like to have lunch. Maybe I was just being a mum, knowing a college student wouldn’t pass up a free meal, while the mother in me also wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend time with my baby.

  It was a very relaxing lunch. We planned our upcoming family day, which we do every Sunday. He let me know he would be at his brother Spencer’s high school graduation, but would miss the graduation party due to work. At one point his sister went inside the deli and Michael wanted to quickly discuss our plans for her surprise trip to Disneyland to celebrate her sixteenth birthday in December. One of our conversations was about Michael’s thick black hair that was longer than I liked, and as I gave him my opinion on the issue he reassured me that once he finished his lead role in the upcoming independent film he was in, he would let me pay for him to get it cleaned up. I share all this because these are not the actions of someone who is contemplating suicide. I don’t think I’m alone in that observation. Following our lunch, I dropped Michael off at his apartment, and told him I loved him, to have a good night at work and that I’d see him in a few days.