motherhood
Origins Of A Psychic
All my life I wanted to find out about the origins of my psychic ability. I wanted to know if it was handed down to me from my ancestors. This question was frustrating at first, because I kept hitting a brick wall. Until my wife got me one of my best birthday presents ever: a three month subscription to a genealogy service.
As I was loading the disk onto my computer, I felt a long and winding road to the truth was ahead. Which side of the family do I start with? My mother’s side, or my father’s? I asked my spirit guide for help and she guided towards me starting with my father. This was unexpected, because all I have ever heard from the family is how I inherited my psychic talent from my mother’s side of the family? Continue reading
A Mother’s Love
I still cry when I hear that beautiful song Mamma by Claudio Villa. Growing up on a small island in Central Italy, I remember my mother’s daily prayers and all her sacrifices. Those examples have always followed me. They are still my daily support and strength.
I cried today in church as well, while singing the Ave Maria. My lovely mother Margherita passed on July 8, 1991 and although she is not with me physically, she is here in my heart, supporting and guiding me from above. She has been my spiritual guide since 1998, when my first girl was born and I named her Margherita too. I always loved my mother’s name, which in Italian is the name of a flower known as “Daisy” in English.
It was during that very difficult pregnancy that my mom came to me for the first time. She spoke to me and I knew her when she walked into my room. I smelled her perfume. She loved the Vele Al Vento fragrance and I that way I knew she was there for me. Continue reading
Prayers For A Prodigal Son
I had been wanting to write this for some time, hoping to use the right words to say this. I feel the time is now.
Recently, we celebrated another Father’s Day in many countries all over the world. For the seventh year in a row I did not see my son, Raymond. Yes, as always I got my hopes up, only to be disappointed again. I usually try to prepare myself days in advance, to get myself out of a bad attitude for knowing that he won’t be around.
I am sure there many fathers or mothers who do not get to see their children. I was a good father, and I know that no one can take that away from me. Father’s Day is a lot harder to me than Thanksgiving or even Christmas, because that one day out of the year is to honor your parents. Both of mine are gone, but I still reflect on what I did for them when they were alive, and what they did for me. Continue reading
In The Shadows Of My Psychic Ancestors
Since my mother had passed on I wanted to look in to the history of psychics in our family. I am a third generation psychic, like my mother and my older brother. I have nieces who also have the gift, and so it will carry on into the next generation.
I can remember the point in my life when I saw a ghost for the very first time. I never imagined how many doors it would open for me one day. The psychics before me made this possible for several generations on my mother’s side.
I visited my aunt and uncle to ask them about my mother’s side of the family. There are a lot of things I don’t know about my mother’s family, except them being partly descended from the Blackfoot Indians. My grandmother was adopted so there were no records to be found. Continue reading
Manifestations, Mothers And Cars
So, by now, if you are a regular reader of my blogs, you’ve become acquainted with my bipolar mom who is great 75% of the time. You would also know that I am a psychic reader of great faith, and a couple months ago I wrote blogs about both my mom, as well as my plan to manifest a new car for myself. I am pleased to share with you, dear reader, that I have achieved success!
But how, you say. What happened, you ask. I don’t know how it happened, but it did.
While I love my mom tremendously, when she takes a ride on the bipolar train, I step back for a week or two and let her work through it. So, it just was the case a month or so after I wrote that blog, she went on a tear again and I backed way up. I had no choice, because you cannot reason with the unreasonable, and as anyone knows who is familiar with the highs and lows that mental disorders can bring, sometimes it is best to live to fight another day. Always pick your battles carefully. Continue reading
Letter To My Daughter
This is a letter to my daughter – if I had one, that is. But I don’t. So, this letter is to her, the daughter I might have had, and also to those young ladies I have known over the years who I have felt were like daughters to me.
My daughter’s name would have been Chantal-Marie, should she have been born. I suppose I could have had her, but life took its course and time slipped away. I was too busy mothering myself, I think, and I couldn’t have mothered her, in retrospect. But hindsight isn’t always 20:20 – don’t let anyone fool you.
So here goes. Strangely enough, I feel as though I were on the edge of a precipice as I write this. It is a most unexpected feeling. Continue reading
My Mother, My Self
My mother is a wonderful woman. Kind-hearted, giving, a great cook and a good listener. In short she is all the things a good mother should be.
My mother is also the most mean-spirited and callous woman you could ever not want to meet. She will cause a scene just to do it, just to get a rise out of someone, because she is bored and isn’t getting paid any attention. Which, to her, is all the time.
My mother is bipolar, with severe manic-depressive mood swings that leave you gasping for breath in the wake of an episode, the same way you gasp for breath after being sucked under by a huge wave of water. My mother has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). There, but for the Grace of God, go I, as the saying goes. Continue reading