Since the death of my father, brother….

Since the death of my father, brother and dog, Mysti, the most unexpected thing makes me realize each of them is no longer physical. As you’ve heard me state before, I’m glad that they still come to me through my medium-ship talents but I’d rather have them here on earth with me rather than to have to communicate like this. But now, as it is, I’ll take what I can.

My daddy’s telephone number and picture are still on my cell. I can’t bear to take it off even though it’s been disconnected. Finally, I took my brother’s number off after almost two years but I’m not sure I can bear to remove daddy’s.

Some time ago, someone mentioned the military and I had to excuse myself to go to the restroom to cry. For a person who doesn’t like to show their emotions often, I almost didn’t make it to the bathroom on time. My brother was a Navy Seal. The word, “military” brought that back home to me even though my father had served in the armed services too in World War 2.

Today, I had to sign something over to my other living brother and the paper asked my relationship to the decedent. In front of the notary, tears welled up. It makes you feel menopausal or worse.

I’ve mentioned to you before that when people are reborn to their true life of spirit, they keep their personalities, manner of speech and memories. (I’ll just pitch in to that of course they are able to remember all their lives, not just the previous one.)

Not long ago, when someone asked if I’d heard from daddy lately and I answered I hadn’t, daddy immediately told me that he was talking with some of the dead Japanese (he shortened it) that he’d killed.

Without thinking, as I always do with a medium flair, I repeated his words. My medium’s mouth has always worked before my brain is engaged. That’s just the way it is in my world and I won’t have it another because the psychic and my being a medium is my passion but sometimes…..whew!

The person, with whom I was speaking, other than my dad, laughed uneasily. When she did my brain finally processed what I’d relayed from my dad. That’s what he would have said while alive except for the visiting people he’d killed part.

That got me to thinking and you know how I am about that. War, even when necessary, causes those that have to fight in it to hate the ones their fighting. And it creates a brainwashed mindset that continues well after the war is over.

While alive, daddy sounded like Archie Bunker with his nationality slang. As the minister he was, he didn’t even think about the way his words could hurt others.
Moreover, I remember some months before he died having a dilemma over whether to accept a Japanese man into his church because he was in the war. He finally decided, after long debate and Bible reading, that God made us all and it was important to realize that we’re all part of God.

Daddy has a heart of gold but his words aren’t always easy, partially because he was in the war and partially because of his fear of being hurt mentally, physically and emotionally. He had strength of character that I’ve seen in few people and I miss him terribly, even those colorful Archie Bunker words.

It takes time I know but still when I hear certain words those I’ve loved long ago come back to haunt me emotionally. When they communicate with me it makes it just a little easier. So daddy can say whatever he wants.

Da Juana

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