Friday, September 29, 2006
Honoring the Ancestors

October is the month for honoring the ancestors. This has made me think about my ancestors. If any of you have heard my manifestation talk, then you know that I was adopted as an infant and met my birth parents when I was 28. So when I think of my ancestors, I think of my adoptive family. The only family I really have ever known. (Though, I do enjoy knowing my birth family now.)

Things I never new I am learning now. As many of you know, my dad was down in August to come to our weekend at HGSA. One of the things we talked about was his mother. You see, she scared me. When I was a little girl, we would spend our summers out on the farm in Crookston, MN. It was an old 2-story house plus an attic and a basement. The old barn still stood as did the grain silo. If we weren’t careful the sewage would back up into the basement. There were crickets and the feel of the old linoleum was so much different under my bare feet that the feeling of it in CA. I still don’t know why. There was a screened in porch where we would watch thunder storms and not be eaten alive by the bird-size mosquitoes and the couch was not a couch but a Davenport.

My Grandmother scared me because she had a cackle and really long nails on her long and gnarled fingers and she would chase me around the house with moving her hands and fingers slowly while laughing that freaky laugh. She did this after telling be that the witch lived in the attic, where the only entrance was through my closet, and she would come down at midnight to use the upstairs kitchen to cook up little girls to eat them. She thought this was hysterical. I went to bed screaming and usually ended up wetting it.

So over a decade ago, when I first started in my medium circles as a student she kept coming in. I told her to go away. She, through the mediums in the circle, kept telling me that she was there to heal the past and help me with my mediumship. I thought that was crazy because she died when I was a young teen and we were never close. Yet she still came in even as recent as 3 years ago when I was in a table tipping class. She made the table jump the highest. I still couldn’t figure it out. We aren’t even blood related and we rarely saw each other.

So my dad and I were talking this summer, and it turns out that not only was his mother very stubborn, superstitious, and too lucky (embarrassed my dad by ALWAYS winning at the church BINGO), she was also a medium. I do remember when her and one of my aunts tried to teach me to read tea leaves when I was around 7-years old. But I never knew that she did table tipping. No wonder she was so good at it when she helped me before. My dad said that she often had tables bouncing around the house.

So this proves my theory that everything happens for a reason. My mother couldn’t have children and my birth mother couldn’t keep me, so I could be adopted into this family and learn these lessons and have both biological mediumship traced through my birth mother and the physical mediumship guidance through my Grandmother.

Wow! I also of course had to learn to forgive her and try to understand her. As much as she messed up my father with some of the stunts she pulled and a mother, she was a pretty cool woman. She was set in her ways, and cold hearted, but I believe she was more that what I could have understood when I was young. I would love to have more conversations with her now, and believe I will through the upcoming Table Tipping Class and Advanced Mediumship Gathering.

So during this month of October, this time of remembering the ancestors and honoring where you came from, look back and try to find some greatness and pride where you may have only found flaws before.