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Barbie And The Afterlife

Get a free psychic reading right now at PsychicAccess.comYears ago I had a client who invited me to her house for a small social gathering. The moment I walked through the glass doors that lead outside to her garden, I clairaudiently heard the word, “suicide.” At the same moment a picture flashed through my mind of a man with a gun in his hand. I paused. The man seemed happy?

I casually walked outside as if nothing had happened, but I was rattled. My client sensed that I was preoccupied and asked if there was something wrong. So, I asked her if she knew about a person who had lived in the house that had committed suicide. She then told me that her husband, Daniel, had taken his life with shotgun 10 years ago. It happened right on the other side of those glass doors, exactly where I had the clairvoyant vision. Apparently he had been ill for many years and when he could no longer take it, he took his own life.

Let them think what they liked, but I didn’t mean to drown myself. I meant to swim till I sank – but that’s not the same thing ~ Joseph Conrad

There was a young woman at the party who knew the back story of Daniel who commented, “He must be in Hell, because he took his own life.” Pfft. I could not help myself, “Really?” I asked.

“Yes,” replied the misinformed young girl, “everyone who takes their own life goes to Hell.”

I almost told her that I felt like I was in Hell listening to her drivel, but I nicely asked her who had told her such a thing. She replied, “My sister. She read it in a book.”

And there you have it; her 17 year old sister was the authority on the whereabouts of a suicide soul, because she had picked up a book somewhere that said suicide souls go to Hell. All of them. No exceptions. Truth is, we really don’t know where souls go.

Of course, I didn’t want to let it go, as I found her statement asinine. The man still had part of his etheric energy there at the house; he was kind and gentle. The event still existed in the ethers at the very spot that he took his own life. He was most certainly not in “Hell.” Well, on second thought, the conversation was somewhat hellish, so maybe Hell really is a place that we make? At that moment, Hell to me was right there in that house talking to a life-sized Barbie doll.

I asked her the name of the book, but she couldn’t recall. I asked how she knew that it was a fact that suicides go to Hell. She looked at me like I was a moron and said, “The book!” I then inquired as to her experience in suicides and if she had any friends who had taken their lives, or known of anyone who knew anyone who had taken their life. The answer: No. She just knew they all went to Hell. Period.

I was busy planning my escape from Barbie Hell, when Margaret, the woman who invited me to the party, approached me. She told me that she knew that Daniel was still around and asked if I also felt his presence. We talked for a while and I answered as many questions as I asked. I was curious about his life and their life together.

Did you really want to die? No one commits suicide because they want to die. Then why do they do it? Because they want to stop the pain ~ Tiffanie DeBartolo

Margaret showed me a memento of him next to the glass doors; she pointed to a frame hanging on the wall that held a hand written note. It was a poem that he had written for Margaret. She invited me to read it.

My heart is heavy in this time of pain; it has been far too long.
I don’t want to leave. This is no life.
I found light in hope; the hope that beyond this pain I will find bliss by freeing myself from this body.
The darkness has lifted, because I know that I could leave this place and always be with you;
That I will see you smile once more.
I promised to always have and hold you until death do us part.
My departure my dear love will never break our love. It is eternal like our spirits.
Wherever you go, I will find you, I will always be near.
Look for me over the rainbow; I will be waiting to take you to Heaven with me.

Margaret told me that during his treatment Daniel had traveled between worlds several times through near-death experiences. He knew it was beautiful “over there.” He decided to help the process a long a little and depart a little earlier.

“Do you believe he is somewhere over the rainbow?” I asked. “I know he is waiting for me. Our spirits are forever entwined,” she replied.

Later, I bumped into Barbie doll again. I then told her that I had it on good authority that Daniel was indeed over the rainbow waiting for Margaret, so that they could be together in their Heaven. I encouraged her to go and read his poem, and then ask herself if she honestly believes that suicide souls go to Hell.

I didn’t wait around to get her answer, because I knew that Daniel was exactly where he wanted to be and that was all that really mattered.

Sometimes we have to accept that we just don’t understand some things and realize that deep within ourselves we will find that knowing if we do not allow ourselves to be guided by the prejudice and ignorance of others.

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