She seemed relieved, as though the weight of guilt had been taken off her shoulders.
‘Ruby, there’s one thing I don’t understand—what’s the significance of the priest’s collar?’
‘Jacob always wanted to be a missionary, a man of the cloth.
It was something he had only shared with me—I guess it was his way of proving he was here today with me. I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge it was him when you first asked me. Just the thought of him actually killing himself—I guess you could say I’ve been in a state of denial.’
I jotted down some contacts for Ruby to make, to assist her through her grief process, and escorted her to the door. She still had tears in her eyes, and she turned to me and touched my hand.
‘Thank you Georgina, I feel a sense of some peace. I don’t think I will ever recover from Jacob’s tragedy; however, I feel today something clicked inside me. I feel I can now put things in place in my head. Maybe tomorrow I can be more confident and tell the family the truth—thank you again.’
21
Pain of those left behind Pain of those left behind
In the midst of despair or pain, you may be convinced that no one has ever felt this way before. Yet there is no pain you can experience that has not been experienced before by another in a different time or place. Our emotional world is universal.
Christina Feldman
Losing a child through suicide presents its own dilemma—it brings to their loved ones a mixture of confusion, guilt, shame and a deep despair. Some believe through their religious or cultural training that their loved ones may be lost in damnation, perhaps to linger in purgatory or hell. Many parents and loved ones hold onto the guilt that they should have known or been aware of the thoughts and actions of their dearly departed. Perhaps then they could have done something to stop the suicide from occurring.
The Mental Illness Fellowship of Australia says that:
More people—about 2500 people each year—die in Australia from suicide than from road accidents. It is estimated that for every suicide there are some 30 other attempts. Among young people, suicide is second only to road accidents as the leading cause of death. Each suicide involves a complex interaction of factors, and no single determinant is necessary or sufficient for it to occur.
Many of those who take their own lives have been suffering from a mental illness or a chemical imbalance. In our society there is enormous pressure to fit in. Many find solace in alcohol and drugs. For others, what triggers their suicidal intent can be the loss of a partner, severe conflict in one’s life, unemployment, family breakups, and for some a history of childhood abuse. For many families the question will remain—why? Just like Ruby, sometimes the answer to this question is revealed in a consultation with a psychic medium.
Ben’s answer
Switching on the radio to listen to Kyle and Jackie O, Ben just caught the start of ‘Dearly Departed’, and he was taken aback with the relevance and accuracy of the information being given to the listener from the deceased. As some listeners do, he became very emotional—the session was broken with an ad break, and a song played and tears rolled down his face. He was unable to continue driving, and pulled over to the side of the freeway. He sat in silence as he listened to the words of the Christina Aguilera song ‘Beautiful’.
The words spoke to him, bringing great significance and meaning as this was the song played at his ex-girlfriend’s funeral a month ago. Ben had been indeed struggling, blaming himself for her suicide. He felt that hearing the ‘Dearly Departed’ segment followed immediately by the song was a sign. He hadn’t known where to turn, where to go, who to talk to, or why he felt so guilty—and maybe I was just the person who had the answers for him.
All I knew when Ben booked the session via email was that he required a Dearly Departed session. Ben was drop-dead gorgeous— tall, with an olive complexion and such a warm, gentle spirit emanating from his soul. My new reading room’s colour theme is red—it’s grounding and colourful, and often takes many by surprise as they believe all psychics have everything purple! He commented how lively it felt, he liked the colour.
Ben took the seat to the right side of my round table, and I sat to the left. My small table is covered with an assortment of objects that are dear to me—some unusual, beautiful crystals, for energy, that I have collected from all parts of the world on my travels, two red candles in angel candlestick holders and my mum’s old crystal ball (only for effect—I don’t use it). I asked Ben for the name of the deceased, the age at death and how long they’d been gone—that’s all. For me, having this information is like having a telephone number to call someone to have a conversation— somehow I am able to connect to the other side with these small fragments of information.
‘I also have a photo of Natalie, would that help?’ Ben asked.
‘Sure—I’ll place it in front of me,’ I replied. She was equally as attractive as the man sitting opposite me. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer asking that I be able to bring information forward to benefit both parties, Ben and Natalie, when suddenly I started to choke. I remember grabbing my throat, as it was cutting off my air supply—I couldn’t breathe.
I have discovered over the years, that for me, the deceased will role-play in my body how they passed. I am not always able to accurately claim how I know the person passed, but in suicides usually the effect is most evident. I could smell a strong odour of alcohol. I then saw a garage and what appeared to be a young woman hanging from the eaves. I remember seeing a teddy bear.
Much of the reading I can’t recall, as I speak rapidly and do not retain much of what I’m given. I was shown that this young woman suffered from a personality disorder—I felt strongly that she was bipolar, and that it ran in her family, on her father’s side. She was a heavy drinker, and she drank to mask her depression. Finally, when the timer went off, I opened my eyes. I had heard Ben sobbing during the session, but powered on. Now I came face to face with his suffering.
Yes, Natalie had committed suicide in the garage, she had been drinking excessively before and she did have the habit of drowning her sorrows in alcohol. The teddy bear Ben had given her as a gift in their courtship, and on the day she killed herself she had placed it on the front door of his house. Ben was feeling responsible for her death—if only he hadn’t broken up with her, maybe she’d be alive today.
As we explored the reading, she gave messages, declaring she had been diagnosed a manic depressive, but never told anyone, refusing to take the medication prescribed by her physician and preferring to drink the bad feelings away. There were special messages for her parents, and some personal details for Ben to reflect on and some hope of a new love she was sending for him— a replacement that would give him love and happiness to come.
Then I noticed a small smile on his face.
‘You know, Georgina, speaking to you I’m starting to realise that Nat did have a problem. I broke off the relationship because of her drinking—I never did realise or understood she drank because she was sad. Everyone knew she was a drama queen. My God! It wasn’t my fault, I didn’t kill her.’
I could sense a release of healing was starting to wash over Ben—perhaps now he could live with the knowledge that although he may have triggered an emotional episode in Natalie’s life, in fact this young woman had a number of mental health issues. As I opened the door to let Ben leave my apartment, he asked, ‘Can I give you a hug?’
‘I’d love that!’ His tall frame leant down and gave me the biggest bear hug—and I knew he would make it.
22
Spiritual school Spiritual school
Why do we fall? To learn how to pick ourselves up.
Alfred Pennyworth
‘Life is a school’ so they say, and Jacob soon learnt when he entered the heavenly realms that there was no easy path.
All his lives—past, present and to come—were learning fields. What he didn’t learn this time he would need to work through in the next life.
Heaven is not a laidback holiday resort where harps are being played and you gain your wings on admission—it is a spiritual process, in fact, a spiritual school where you earn the right to move forward as you come to understand the circumstances of your past.
Already, Jacob had been shown his death and how it had affected those nearest and dearest to him, to help him comprehend the impact of his actions on his loved ones. I sense Jacob’s entry into the spiritual school system would start with ‘healing school’, where he would be taught skills by the finest spiritual masters and teachers, gaining insight and revelations about his soul’s journey. From there he would graduate into a higher learning field, much like what happens on earth—a tiered school system such as infants, primary, high school, tertiary—and eventually return once again in another form to continue on his karmic path of his soul’s development. It may take Jacob years to work through these processes, while others may undergo this phase quite quickly.
What can you do?
When you lose that special person to suicide, hopelessness overwhelms your everyday existence. Your love for them doesn’t change—after all love never dies—so open your heart to still continue to send them love. See a mental picture in your mind, or perhaps hold a photo of them as you pray, and they will feel your energies and vibrations—nothing is ever wasted, no thought, deed or prayer. Tell them you forgive them, do not hold grudges or anger—send peaceful thoughts.
You may choose to set aside a quiet time in the morning, evening or weekend, a time when you’re not rushed, when you can concentrate and pray for them. You may consider lighting a candle in their honour, as a ritual; a practical way of honouring their life. Forgiveness is divine, and as you work through this process, know that your dearly departed will hear your prayers and receive your love, allowing their healing to move forward, and in doing so they will be happier and more fulfilled in the afterlife.
In the case of murder
I am blessed with a profession that is flexible enough to combine both working opportunities and pleasure activities. So when I was invited to be a guest presenter at London’s Mind, Body and Spirit Festival, I jumped at the offer!
Off went the emails to my friends, informing them of my impending trip. The next morning there was an email reply from Alison, my dear friend. ‘Georgina, you always stay with me in London when you visit—please come, the apartment is yours!
Unfortunately, I’ll be in the Middle East on a work assignment, but I’ll leave the key with the concierge. You know the drill—just enjoy the trip!’
I quickly responded, thanking her for the generous offer.
Alison’s apartment is ideally situated within short walking distance of little curio shops, cafes, Kensington Palace, wonderful parks and the underground rail system—it’s comforting to go back to familiar places.
I just love how Spirit manipulates circumstances and opportunities to do their will. En route to London I was staying with a former client, now a dear friend, Jules and her husband in Malaysia.
In her first reading many years ago, I had predicted how she would meet the man she would marry—and yes, it happened exactly that way. Over dinner one evening, Jules mentioned she was having a girlfriend call around for lunch the next day.
‘Georgina, I know you’re on holidays and don’t do readings, but would you break the rule—just once? Sally has had a lot happening in her life and I’m sure you hold the key to unlock some unanswered questions.’
My friend was gracious enough to open her home, so I agreed.
Sally was as entertaining as Jules had described—you wouldn’t think for one moment she or her family had suffered quite tragic circumstances— but I soon learnt exactly what those sad events were.
After lunch, we were ushered into the sitting room. ‘Sally, Jules mentioned to me you were hoping for a reading while I’m here. Have you got the time now?’ I asked.
‘Georgina, I have all the time in the world. In fact, I did come prepared—just in case. I have some photos in my bag if you need them,’ she said.
I presumed it would be a General/Futuristic Reading. She passed me her watch, and, as always, the words and predictions flowed effortlessly—when suddenly I had the most intense burning, shooting pain in my back, like I have never experienced before. I went into a form of seizure; the pain was incredible, deep within my body. Finally I was able to push away the sensation, compose myself and continue on with the consultation. I went on to describe in detail the vision I saw of a man being murdered—Sally was stunned.
‘Georgina, the man you are accurately describing has to be my father. He went missing, and to this day we have never known what happened to him. Yes, there had been rumours as to his disappearance and subsequent death. You have just confirmed for me the reason he left so quickly. In fact, quite some time later a body of a man fitting the description of my father was discovered with knife wounds in his back, just as you described. But this was a number of years ago, when technology didn’t exist to investigate further, and also perhaps in our country, murder investigations are not as thorough as in the west. The police couldn’t assure us they were the remains of my father. Today you have answered what I needed to know—he is gone, and I can close that chapter behind me. My family will be so grateful.’
23
The cold case
It is possible to live in peace.
Mahatma Gandhi
Ihave come to realise that sometimes my life’s work is not where I see it being at that moment. There is a greater plan at work as one meeting or one introduction leads to another—a soul is beckoning to be heard, lessons are waiting to be taught. Closure is needed for new lives to begin.
As I’d promised after the reading, Sally and I caught up for a cup of coffee, and that turned into lunch then dinner.
‘Georgina, there’s someone close to me who has suffered a similar fate to my family. Someone near and dear to them has been brutally murdered, but there is no resolution. Would you consider helping them?’
The domino effect had set in.
I agreed, although I dislike murder cases because they’re so draining. ‘Please don’t tell me anything about the case,’ I asked Sally. ‘You know I prefer to operate this way.’
When I opened the door for this client, there stood a very fine-looking man with dark curly hair and a brightly coloured skirt. His voice was mellow and sounded rather English. Immediately upon seeing his face, my heart jumped—I sensed a past karmic connection. We had known each other before—certainly not in this life, but most definitely in a past life.
The first time I became aware of this unusual sensation in my heart was when the doctor rang to confirm I was indeed pregnant with my third child, Brendan. Before falling pregnant, I had a spirit child visit me one evening. He stood by my bed. He looked about two years old, and despite a head full of blond curly locks, he was definitely a boy. He told me, ‘You have known me before and I will be returning once again—this time as your child.’ As Brendan grew, he developed a head full of blond curly hair—interestingly his two older siblings had dark curly hair at that age.
Obviously, we had had a strong karmic connection from a previous life. In your lifetime you’ve probably met someone and thought to yourself that you recognised them from a previous association or encounter, only to discover that your paths have never crossed. So when my heart jumps when I meet someone new, for me it is a signal that a possible karmic connection is in front of me.
Mr Charles had a firm handshake, and it rushed through my mind that standing before me was a very well-educated businessman, who had perhaps reached high acclaim in his profession, and that today’s consultation would be taking him outside his comfort zone. I believe the eyes are the window to the soul, and I could see the man standing in front of me was indeed an old soul who was deeply hurting. That day he would put aside his education and training and be open to exploring possibilities of a supernatural kind.
I asked that the session be recorded so h
e could take the information back with him, for further understanding and possible investigation. He passed me a portrait of the woman who had been murdered—Mrs Richards. The events unfolded very quickly in my mind, but her death was played out in slow motion. Suddenly I grabbed my head—the pain was intolerable—it was the blow that killed her. I understand my account was graphic and very detailed— I had seen the murder, I had become the murder victim. I was shown the motives behind the murder and who had taken her life.
Rushing before me was the police investigation, interviews and why the case had become ‘cold’.
Then, a most beautiful energy appeared and the pace went from rapid to almost feeling like I was floating—the feeling you have when lying back in a swimming pool without a care in the world.
Mrs Richards appeared before me smiling, her deep brown eyes showing no hatred or remorse. I became aware of biblical scriptures being quoted and wondered how Mr Charles would handle hearing about this as I sensed he was not of Christian faith. But I have learnt not to edit a session, for what Spirit gives must be for a reason, otherwise they would not deliver this in their messages.
These were beautiful words and heartfelt messages being given from a woman who had been taken so violently from this world.
It was obvious she had moved beyond her death to a place of deep healing and looked upon her murder with compassion. Through me she gave suggestions on how Mr Charles could help those she left behind. Then there were the very personal messages that would allow Mr Charles to cut free from the deep state of depression that had engulfed him since her death. How reassuring it is to know that those we dearly love continue in spirit to care for us.
When I opened my eyes, he placed a photo on the table. It was a group photo that included Mrs Richards, and there I saw her killer. I pointed to him. He nodded, and told me this person had been considered a prime suspect. Then he placed another photo on the table, explaining it was the last photo taken of Mrs Richards.
Dearly Departed Page 12
