I have finally had an "October Moment" to rival one of Magazine Man's amazing stories. I thought of posting it yesterday, but I'm glad I didn't, as the story's relevance continued on this afternoon. For the privacy of some people involved, I'm changing names to initials, and I'm not revealing the location where this happened, for the privacy of the woman who gave me this amazing gift.
Yesterday morning, I splurged big time on a reflexology foot massage for my birthday. Friday was my flex day from work, and I figured I needed to do something good for myself at some point - especially after so much "oooh my back" grumbling and groaning like an old crone.
The therapist who did the massage is a 60-something woman from Europe named M. She was funny, full of life, and did a fantastic job with the tootsie kneading. Halfway through the massage she stops and says to me, "I hope I won't offend you with this, but I feel you'll be quite receptive to this..." She told me she was a clairvoyant years ago overseas, and had provided services for members of a royal family. She stopped working as a clairvoyant when she found she was being bothered by "voices" all the time. "I had no private life," she said in explanation. So, she fled the voices, moved to the 'States and took massage therapy courses.
She told me she had occasionally received messages for other massage clients, but she never felt they would be receptive to anything she had to say. She said to me, "Who is GNH? Whose initials are GNH?" I inhaled sharply. Those were my mother's initials. She really disliked her given name, and, before marrying my father, she used her initials all the time. When I told M. those were Mom's initials, she said, "I see planes all around her. Airplanes? Does that make sense?"
Can you say "whoa, freaky!"?!?!
She said, "Your mother doesn't want you to worry about the light in your dining room. You worry too much about it, and there will be no fire. Don't worry about the electrics at all." My brother Mike who came to see me earlier this month would be able to tell you - my landlord has not repaired/replaced a chandelier in my dining room for a year, despite there being scorch marks all around it. Just last night, I was staring at it, very annoyed to still have it vexing me.
Then she asked me "Who are B. and E.?" (My sisters in Illinois - keep in mind she used full first names.) "How about M.? Your mother says M. has been having a very difficult time, and she watching over her." M. is my sister who has had very serious, life-threatening medical problems for months now.
I was just blown away.
But it continues -- she said to me, "Your mother says to not be concerned that D. and J. have been invited to the event in.... ummm... Nevada." D. and J. are my mother's unpleasant relatives by marriage - people we cannot stand. Trust me, there are good reasons for our dislike. Last week, I received a letter from an organization in Nevada, inviting me to attend a ceremony next year in Nevada, honoring my mother's father for his scholarly work in mapping and water research in the state. They didn't have the names of my other siblings for the letter, but they included D. and J. in the invite. I had just written to my siblings last week, saying it would be an utter shame if only those nasty cretins were able to show up for the event.
Apparently, Mom wants me to just fuhget abouddit.
Holy crap, people! Seriously!
Then, M. asked if there was another "G" out there, connected to airplanes. "Possibly a brother?" she asked. I told her about Mom's brother, G. who vanished in the Pacific in 1943, flying his Douglas dive bomber in bad weather.
She also had a message for me from an old boss in Moscow, too, who died from a brain-eating disease. The man was a mountain of charisma, but had no moral compass. He slept with a baker's dozen of my coworkers - always when his wife was on official travel. M. had a lovely dog - a black & white australian sheepdog. The woman this morning asked me if I knew "an M." (here, she offered up a couple of names, one of them a bit exotic and right on target) "with a border collie or sheepdog, black & white... he wants to apologize for all his bad behavior and asks if you would pass the word to others who knew him, just how sorry he is."
I know some may not believe in such things, but my rational mind cannot find any explanation for her revelations. I had never met M. before. I told her nothing about the family. I had never been to the little spa before. She told me the warmth and light that came with the messages was amazing, and, if I ever wanted to come back for another massage, she'd be happy to pass on any other messages she received.
I guess I need to figure out where I'm going to get $40 a month to go in for a massage!!
So, if all this wasn't strange enough, M. had said something about "pink roses, pink roses... I have a very strong image of pink roses, and maybe a lily... oh, and there's baby's breath, but one stem is bad, you'll have to throw that away."
And so comes today's floral coda to this tale...
This afternoon, two dear friends had flowers delivered to me for my birthday. The arrangement was a wonderfully wild mix of stunning flowers and colors. And, in the heart of the bunch, what did I find?
Bright pink roses and a brilliant yellow lily.
And, in the baby's breath, one stem that had seen better days.
Folks, I don't know what to say. Even if you don't believe, it's pretty wild. And if you do, it's nice to know there are folks out there, watching out for us. :)