Superbowl prediction...

So I was driving in my car today, singing along to The Smiths, when a thought popped in my head...

The black and yellow team are going to win the Superbowl. I'm pretty sure it wasn't Morrissey giving me the tip. Emo New Wave and football rarely go hand in hand.

Now, I know absolutely NOTHING about football nor do I care and thank God my husband doesn't either. I had no idea who was in contention for this trophy or cup or ring, whatever it is that they give you when you win the SB. So I asked the first guy I ran into if there would be a black and yellow team playing tomorrow and he laughed and said that the Steelers are in the game and they wear those colors. Cool. He was happy to hear I thought they'd win.

I also thought about the number 28. Maybe it'll be 28 to 7? Now i'm just guessing...or am I?

When soul leaves body.

A few weeks ago I received a phone call from my mother. She and my stepfather were down at the hospital with my Step Grandfather. The doctors had removed his oxygen and had given Joe another hour or so to live. I asked if it would be ok for me to come down and sit with them until he passed, my Mom thought that would be nice. I let my husband know what was happening and made my way over to the hospital.

When I arrived I could tell that my step dad was having a hard time, he could barely stay in the room. He'd lost his mother last year and these last few years of dealing with his father's Alzheimer's has been tough on him. The pain was etched into his face and he paced around the halls as we took turn holding Joe's hand.

His breathing was labored and he gasped every 4 seconds, by my count. We watched his jugular for a heartbeat, as there were no monitors.

Hours passed and one of his other son's came to say a tearful goodbye. I'd never met this brother, he's a drug addict and isn't aloud to come around. I couldn't believe how much he looked like his tiny 94 year old father. It was like looking back in time at Joe, minus the crack addiction. My stepbrother stopped by too and made awkward conversation. After a few hours of this my step dad told me to get on home, I resisted but he seemed like he really wanted me to leave so I wasn't going to argue. I told my mom to call me as soon as anything happened.

As I left I felt puzzled, I had been SURE that I was going to be there when Joe passed. I felt really unsettled about leaving but reasoned with myself that sometimes these hunches are wrong.

I went and met up with my husband and son for Indian Food and kept checking my phone for a call. About an hour later I called my mother and asked her if Joe was still alive. "He is" she said "but we left the hospital and are home now". I'm sorry, WHAT!?! "Who is with Joe?" I asked. Nobody, that's who. "But mom, he can't die alone. Why would you leave him?" My step dad had just decided that he'd said his goodbyes and it was time to go home.

Basically from the moment my mother uttered those words I was in hyper speed. MUST. GET . TO . HOSPITAL.

I sped home and dropped of my son and then literally raced to the hospital. I was begging Joe in my mind to please, please not die. Please hold on til I get there. I hoped that he could hear me. Please God, don't let him die alone. I must have looked crazy because I was fucking running down those hospital corridors, only slowing to a jog when someone appeared in the halls. That place is like a maze. So I burst into his room and freeze in the doorway waiting to see if he was still breathing. He took a large and sudden gasp that made be jump and smile, I'd made it! I walked over to his bed and grabbed his hand and said "It's ok Joe, I'm here now. It's your granddaughter Michelle." I dropped my purse onto the couch and plopped down in the chair, still holding his hand. "You can go now" I said. And with that I looked at him and watched a pale yellow rise out of his mouth and up towards the ceiling. I sat there stunned. "Holy shit, was that what I thought it was?". I watched and waited for another breath but it didn't come. I stared at his neck waiting for the next heartbeat but there wasn't one. I sat there running through what had just happened and was in awe. I just watched his soul leave his body, no fucking way! Way.

About 30 seconds later the sweet gay nurse came into the room and looked surprised to see me there. "I thought he was alone in here" he said. "I got here just in time" I told him " and I'm pretty sure he just died". He pulled out his stethoscope and began to check his vitals. He listened carefully for a solid minute and told me that he was indeed gone. "Is it common to see, uh, something when someone dies?" He flashed me his sassiest "Bitch, please!" look and then pretended I hadn't just asked him that. He then let me know that the doctor would be in soon to formally declare the time of death and I was welcome to wait. I called my mom and told her what happened and she thanked me for being there.

I sat there for close to an hour feeling elated and grateful to have witnessed his passing. All around the room I saw little sparkles, flashing here and there. Sparkles, as i've come to understand, are the way I see energy. It's the closet thing to seeing the dead that I get and I imagine that the sparkles I was seeing were spirits or angels. It was such a great experience helping someone cross over and I really do feel privileged for that gift. Eventually the doctor came in and I told her the official time of death. I signed the appropriate paperwork, signed a death certificate for a man I hardly knew, released his body to be cremated. I'll never know why it was me that day but i'd like to think that Joe chose me for a reason. One more spirit behind me, pushing me toward this new reality, this new and uncertain life.

I'll start off with questions from the audience...

F.A.Q.'s

Have you always been psychic?

As a child I was always fascinated by psychic abilities, ESP, anything occult related really, but was discouraged from exploring them out of fear from my parents. My father is very psychic and my mother and sister are as well but it just wasn't talked about. I never fit in with the other kids, I knew I was different and so did they. I was always hyper sensitive to other peoples thought's and emotions, it made for a difficult and painful childhood that was always chalked up to me being overly sensitive or emotionally immature. It was an isolating and depressing experience, honestly. Throughout high school I had a handful of very strange precognitive experiences but they were pretty spread out. I learned to bury it and adapt.

During my pregnancy with my son my precognitive abilities took off full force and I started having more and more dreams about future events. After his birth the precognitive dreams increased in frequency to 3-4 times a week. I saw deaths and terrorist attacks with very specific details weeks ahead. I started to feel other people's physical pain (no fun!) and know when something bad was happening at the exact moment it occurred. After about a year of this I decided I needed to do something about it. I took a few classes at a local psychic college (they do exist) and decided it wasn't right for me. I began private lessons from an amazingly gifted intuitive reader and healer who taught me how to embrace the gift and wield it with some grace and control. These days the dreams are happening less but I am very psychic throughout my daily "waking" life. I am still a work in progress...

So are you a clairvoyant?

Not exactly. Clairvoyance means "to see" and i'm not visual at all. I am clairsentient and clairaudient, which means I receive information by feeling, knowing and "hearing".

You hear voices, Michelle?

No smart ass, not like that. You know that inner voice you "hear" when you are reading a book or having a conversation in your head? It's sounds like that and i've (mostly/occasionally) learned to distinguish what is my voice and what is information from somewhere else. If a thought pops into my head for someone it is often VERY persistent until I say something. This can be embarrassing, so you try to work it into conversations "excuse me sir, but is your birthday February 24th?". I just say it now cause it's so god damned annoying if I don't.

Do you see dead people?

No, I don't see much but i've spoken with a few (for other people) and I get poked at and pushed a lot. Someone plays with my hair when i'm going to sleep, i'd like to think it's my Grandma. eeek. I'm not totally sure if i'm a medium or not but i'm starting to think I may be.

So how do you know you're just not bat shit crazy?

That is an excellent question and it's required lots and lots of proof for me to believe it myself. My husband was a borderline atheist, but a couple years of constant accurate predictions and strange happenings have lent credence to these claims. I'm a lover of all things science myself, so it's been a bit of a struggle for me as well. I would love to be able to give you a scientific explanation for what I can do but I just can't. There is so much that is unknown about the human brain and the universe. I think String Theory (quantum mechanics) is where a lot of these answers lie, scientifically and I have a feeling that the Large Hadron Collider will also reveal multiple dimensions in the next few years. There you go, a prediction for you!

Do your friends and family know about all this?

Some of them do, i'm pretty selective about who I talk to and what I say. I have a pretty good sense about who will receive this information well. My husband family are VERY religious and would disown me. My parents believe me but are cautious and afraid that i'll be drawn to the "darkside". I don't believe in the devil OR Darth Vader so this is particularly annoying to me. My friends that i've told have been supportive and cool about the whole thing but for now i'm holding off on telling my atheist friends. Still not a huge fan of ridicule, so go easy on me.