Thursday, March 20, 2014

A visit from Dad


I mentioned in my last post that I had an angel card reader come to the house recently for a morning tea reading party.

This was the second time I'd had a reading from her, and she is uncannily on the ball. 

During the reading she mentioned my Dad and asked if he had died after a long illness (he had: cancer).  She picked up a lot about my Mum, and said that Mum watches over me. I feel she does, too. I talk to Mum and ask her things - particularly if I find something in the house and don't know what it's for. The answer will pop into my head in a minute or two, and I think Mum puts it there.

But I digress… this post is about Dad.

During my reading I had three friends in the other room - V, C, and V's daughter-in-law P. P is rather psychic. As a teenager she knew when her best friend was having a sleepless night as it would wake her up. She's seen relatives by her bed at the time of their passing. 

When I came out from my reading, P said, "There was a man at the front door." I had an inkling the man wasn't real… otherwise the others would have spoken to him and asked what he wanted.

"What did he look like?" I asked. "What colour hair, how tall?"

"He had dark hair and was less than 6 foot. Medium height."

"Slim build?"

"Yes."

"That sounds a bit like my Dad. Hang on, I'll get a photo."  

I have a photo of Dad in his late 30s-ish in my office and I whipped it out and showed it to her. P's face contorted horribly; for a moment it seemed as if her face had turned molten. I thought she was going to faint. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, in other words, and I do believe she had. (Now I know what people look like when they say they see a ghost!)  "Oh my God," she said faintly, and then we were plying her with tea and I was apologising for giving her such a fright and thanking her for seeing my Dad. I felt so awful for giving her such a shock, and was at the same time stunned and rather elated that my father had been standing at the door.


P said Dad stood at the front door, and when I appeared with the angel card reader, he turned away, walked down the two steps and down the path out of sight. P said he wouldn't come in. 

So… I am pondering. Did he appear because there was such a strong psychic pull that day, with both P and the angel card reader in the house? Or because the angel card reader had somehow called him during my reading? And does he visit often? Does he watch, and has he watched this house since he died in 1991? He and Mum designed this place when they were still in love… 

I think Dad is one of my guardian angels, even though we weren't close. I think he's the one who looks after me when I'm flying either as a passenger or a trial flight pilot. 

Mum is another, as is my Nan.  And the card reader told me the little girl on the swing, who two reiki practitioners have both seen when they have worked on me, is my guardian angel, looking after the child inside me who so often wants to come out and play. 

So now I guess I have a few 'people' to talk to who may or may not just be hanging around, looking out for me. 

Some things don't change though - Dad would never come in the house after he left; he would leave Christmas and birthday gifts on the front step. Only once did he come in, when I was 14 and he was handing over the deeds of the house to Mum. I had to grin at the thought of him looking through the front door - and have told him since that he is welcome… inside the house.

2 comments:

  1. That is incredible and wonderful! Wow. I would love to meet your card reader!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hello Carinthia. I stumbled on your blog whenm looking for a photo os Sydney ferries for a poetry item. At first sight I really like what you have done ... amazingly original presentation. Mine is much simpler ... coronavirus gave me the time to start up. Perhaps you can take a look and let me know your thoughts. I haven't really gone puublic yet. In the meantime I'll read more of yours. I am semi-retired and live on the Coast of Kenya.
    SITE: www.whittlingourniche.com

    ReplyDelete