Lately I’ve had many nighttime ghost visitors of both sexes. Of course I still see them during the day but it seems these ghostly guests want to be the last to say goodnight recently.
Why would that seem unusual, you ask, since I’m a psychic medium? It’s really not odd but they seem to be arriving in a manner in which I can’t miss them. Ghosts are great conversationalists. So I hear them all the time, even in my sleep (they’ve awakened me several times while we’re in conversation) and they appear often especially when I least expect it but they seem to be offering some special notice lately. It could be that they feel sorry for me although, on the other side, they’re pretty matter of fact.
Last night, it was a white, lacy looking blanket that seeped through the walls and floated by the bed about bed height level. This wasn’t a dire expression but rather a joyful one. I mentioned her to Claude and he immediately asked who she was. She told me that she was his mother’s mother. That’s the way she said it. Then he went into a dissertation of how great this lady was, how she’d never spoken ill of anyone and always had a good thing to say for others. I have to admit she felt pretty good to me.
When I turned over to put my head into the pillow, I thought of my brother, Allen, who just died. He told me he had a good life and that he lived it to the fullest. I told him that I knew that but that he just didn’t live long enough to suit me. His answer was that he crammed a lot of life into a short time and he was proud of what he’d done. Two or three times he’s reminded me of this since his death. He’s right but I’m human too, not just a medium. I miss him.