Please Don’t Let Me Die Where The Bodies Are Buried…
People always ask how I knew
I was supposed to do this work, to be a psychic medium, and though I’ve heard the voices all my life, this is how one spirit changed my life forever.
I met Michael in a Mommy & Me class at our temple, shortly after my first son was born. We were instant friends and very quickly became “mommy bffs” (for lack of better terminology). We met up regularly, the boys in tow. We’d have coffee and chat while the kids napped or climbed through play places. We’d sit back-to-back and talk about everything; life, parenthood, spouses, you name it and I loved the time we spent together.
My boys were six and three when we left Los Angeles and moved back to Florida and, Michael and I did our best to stay in touch. We saw each other when I came back to town for work but, once his kids were in school, he went back to work and connecting became harder and harder until one day he called me.
“I’m sick” he said. “The cancer is everywhere.” Six weeks later he was gone.
Vanessa was one of my first teachers as a psychic medium, and she has always been a wonderful mentor to me. When we first started working together, I asked her about Michael. Was he ok? And perhaps more importantly, we he really doing all the things I suspected he was, to push me down this new path towards being a working medium?
We talked about his passing and how he was, now that he’d been released from his cancer riddled body. She shared that he left his body very quickly
and how he wasn’t “alone” when he passed. And the irony was never lost on me that, while neither Michael nor his husband believed in life after death while he was alive, now that he had been “enlightened” he had a lot more to say on the subject! After he died, Michael became the biggest busy body in my life, pushing me more and more to pursue the training needed to become a skilled evidential medium. He created an unexpected sense of urgency inside me, to learn all I could, as fast as I could, along with an additional compulsion to make sure his husband knew he was ok and that he was indeed still present. Every teacher I’d ever worked with said, don’t give people unsolicited messages from the other side, but Michael persisted so I called his husband and let him know I wanted to meet up on my next trip to LA.
I loved Paul dearly, but my friendship had been more with Michael, and I was prepared for Paul to be reluctant to see me, especially without Michael there as a buffer. It came as no surprise when, on the day of our dinner, he called to say, “it wasn’t good for him to come down.” They had moved up to Palmdale years before and, even with good traffic flow, it was still about an hour away, so I understood his reluctance to deal with LA traffic, even if it would all be going the other way. But I could feel it getting stronger, a familiar feeling of something pushing against my back the way Michael always had and, I knew it was him, not letting me off the hook.
I was going to Palmdale, braving the hordes of SUVs heading out of the city,
in my tiny rental car. Heading north at the end of a day from LA is a lot like the stampede scene from the movie City Slickers. It’s a mob, stay close to the guy in front of you, but not too close and, just try to keep moving so you don’t get run over! I convinced Paul to meet for dinner at a crowded restaurant near the highway and I knew Michael was there to make sure he showed up. I had never seen Paul look so uncomfortable to see me but, over appetizers, I told him about my conversation Vanessa, how she’d told me Michael was safe, that he wasn’t alone when he passed, and that his loved ones on the other side were indeed with him when he transitioned. Moments passed and Paul just looked at me…
“Yeah, I know… You drove all the way up here just to tell me that?”
What the hell?! Why would Michael push and shove, making me so uncomfortable that I’d be compelled to schlep my ass all the way up here for, “Yeah, I know…”?! Clearly, something was missing. I grabbed my phone and pulled up the recording of my conversation with Vanessa. I cued it up to where we were talking about Michael and handed over my headphones.
He listened… I waited… and then suddenly, he burst into tears. His reaction confirming there had indeed been more Michael wanted him to know and even though I had listened to that recording umpteen times, I still wasn’t sure which part I had missed. Seeing my friend in pain tore at my heart and, knowing how much I was missing Michael, I couldn’t imagine the depth of his loss, having said good-bye to his partner of more than 30 years… I could feel Michael over my right shoulder as Paul and I cried together. We talked for a long time after that, neither of us having much of an appetite any longer. Michael’s illness had taken him away so fast and, for the first time, Paul shared with me more of what that time had been like, the fear, the anger and sadness, and the strength and courage that held them all together when they knew the odds were so harshly stacked against them. It was barely six weeks from diagnosis to funeral and it left many unanswered questions.
Had they done the right things? Did they do all they could in the short time they had, and most importantly, had Michael agreed with the choices Paul had made? He knew the answers to some of the questions, but that last one had been holding his heart in a vice grip since Michael died and now, finally he knew. They had done all they could, Paul had honored his wishes and Michael was at peace.
I’d been carrying armloads of my own guilt for not being there while he was alive but, Michael had told me not to come. I did as he asked, though had he answered otherwise, I would have been on the next plane. As Paul shared with me that listening to the recording helped him finally be able to release his feelings of uncertainty and guilt, I felt mine fall away as well. I sat there, stunned at how my dear departed friend had manipulated and used me. He used my ability to feel him and hear him to bring something so important to his beloved partner, and now Paul was free from those crushing feelings of guilt and uncertainty.
I felt small. I felt humbled and honored to be used in such a way, to help those I dearly loved. As I thought through the events leading up to this dinner, I was stunned to realize all the different ways my friend had been shifting things in my life to bring me to this place. My head was still spinning when I got in the car to head down the mountain and back to LA. Not only had my relationship with Paul been permanently altered, but my mind had been stretched in a way I never expected. My thoughts were still racing, when I realized the GPS hadn’t put me on the highway back to the city. Crap! I was on the winding mountain road that went through the Angeles National Forest; the one with zero lights and zero cell service. That’s when the “low fuel” light came on in my rental car. Naturally.
I’m not usually one to panic, I know that most cars have about 30 miles once that little light goes on, and I have been known to push those limits on more than one occasion. But this time was different, and a sick feeling crept into my belly as I did the math. The car might have 25 or 30 miles of gas left but, I was nearly 40 miles from Santa Clarita, with nowhere to stop and no way to call for help when I inevitably ran out of gas, in the forest, with no cell service… Which is why criminals bury bodies up there…
Any time a woman went missing in LA, there was a better than average chance her body would turn up in the Angeles Forest! Now here I was, almost out of gas, rolling down a mountain I’d only come up because of Michael, and all I could think was how pissed I was going to be if he got me killed up here!
And just as quickly, there was calm. A voice in my right ear told me not to worry and the knots in my stomach seemed to fade away. “I’m here, just put the car neutral and roll down the hill. It will all be ok, I promise…”
I will never forget that feeling as I coasted down the mountain, singing along with the radio the way we used to do, and rolling right into a gas station. I felt so honored to be able to help my friends in this way and I knew that Michael hadn’t just escorted me down a mountain, he pushed me into a whole new way of life. All these years later, I can’t imagine my life any other way. I love my work and I thank Michael every day for being so insistent.