Metaphysical: Automatic Writing (part 3)

 By Paula Bianchi –

 After my father died, my Mom had a really hard time being here without him. She was very vocal on the fact she was ready to go be with him. My sister and I didn’t make it easy on her either because we were at odds and did what we could to avoid seeing each other. Because my Mom and Sister lived together, Mom understood why it would be better if we just went out to breakfast each week. She liked the idea of getting out of the house for a while.   

I looked forward to our visits, and her stories of her life. She always wondered about her Dad after he left her and her mom when she was 6yrs old. She never saw him again. She often wondered if she had a sibling somewhere. I would sit and listen to her reminisce about the good old days, and the different jobs she had. She talked of how she protected her younger half-sister from her sister’s abusive father. After he left, it fell upon my Mom to support her Mom and Sister. Her life sure didn’t sound easy. I listened to each story over and over again, and with every retelling, I learned more about her.

We also talked about how I was talking to Dad, through Automatic Writing, and I would relay his messages, but sometimes what she heard only made her yearn to be with him more. She would give me a line up on who she wanted to see first when she finally joined him on the other side. I knew her list by heart.

I told her about the Psychic Seminars I attended and what I experienced there. I gave her some of my books about the afterlife, which lead to conversations about what it was like to die. I told her, according to Sylvia Browne, we just pop right out of our bodies. Kind of like walking through a doorway. Out of all the books I gave her, I think she liked Sylvia’s the best. Her favorites were: “Life on the Other Side” and “The Other Side and Back.”

As the years stretched on, my Mom’s mind game was, she was ready to go. She was tired of her old body and how it’s changed with age. She was a heavy smoker who smoked for most of her life with no regrets. It started getting hard for her to get around, so she spent her days lost in thoughts about the past, and how everyone she loved and cared for was on the other side waiting for her. Every ER visit turned into a “what if” moment for her. She would come home feeling upset that the doctors had fixed her, and she was still here. She prayed with all her might that she wouldn’t wake up in the morning. She even prayed to my psychic friend, Lexi, to help her crossover. One day at breakfast, she gave me a matching bracelet and necklace set to give to her. I think she wanted a way to have a connection with her. (Later I’ll discover just how connected she is.)

On her last ER visit, her doctor felt it was time for hospice to come and help take care of my Mom. I knew right away that this meant her time to go was close at hand. She didn’t see it that way though. All she saw was these people bringing stuff, into her house, that would keep her here longer. I remember sitting with her in the living room as they brought in an oxygen tank to help her breathe, and the look of discuss on her face because these people were going to keep her here.

I knew exactly what was going on in her head right then, so I leaned over and explained to her that having all these people in her house was a good thing. They were bringing with them all the energy she needed to help her crossover. I was right because just two days later she was gone. When I picked up the phone in the early AM, it was my sister telling me, “Mom got her wish.” I threw on my clothes and rushed over there.

It was weird standing in my Mother’s living room knowing her lifeless body was in her bed. I’m pretty sure the people from hospice didn’t know what to think about me and my sister. We were very calm showing no tears or hysterics. Why would we? This is what Mom wanted more than anything. She wished for it for 9yrs, and now her wish had come true.

During a moment while we were waiting for my mom to be picked up, I was left alone in the house with her. I don’t know why I felt the need to go in and see her, but I did. I walked into her room, and she was covered with a sheet. I pulled it back and kissed her forehead. As I was putting the sheet back over her, I noticed her eyes were opened, and she was staring into her closet. I covered her up and left the room.

The house was still empty, so I stepped outside and called Lexi. When I told her, my Mom had passed this morning, she said, “I know she’s standing right here, and she’s beyond happy right now. She’s very excited to be able to talk to you.”

At that moment, I felt so much comfort. “Is she okay?” I asked.

“Yes. She’s telling me it was just like how you said it would be. She popped out of her body and was looking down at it, when she noticed a line of people coming out of her closet waiting for her. First her Dad, then your Dad, her Mom and Sister, in that order.”

That was it! Her list of who she wanted to see first when she died, and she was staring into her closet. They tried to close her eyes, but they couldn’t. I never told Lexi about who my Mom wanted to see, and in what order she wanted to see them. A wave of energy washed over me. I felt her all around me, then it slowly disappeared. At that moment, I knew I was still going to continue having a relationship with my Mom, but it would only happen if I invested in the time it would take to keep our connection going. After they took her body away, I turned to my sister and said, “We’re orphans now,” and we hugged. It doesn’t matter how old we get because in our minds we’ll always see our parents as they were when they were raising us. I went home feeling so drained.

Mom had instructed both of us that she didn’t want us to have a funeral or gathering for her. She always hated going to those. She didn’t even want us to announce her death in the newspaper. All she asked for was to be cremated, and to have her ashes spread where my brother-in-law had spread my Dad’s ashes.

A few weeks had passed, and my sister and I were trying to get used to our new normal. We put our feud behind us while dealing with all the loose ends related to Mom’s death. I regretted that my Mom had to deal with us being mad with each other at the end of her life, and that we didn’t fix it before she left.

One morning, while I was in the shower, I had this flash of memory of me sitting with my Mom in a restaurant having breakfast, and she was telling me about how she could hear what my sister was saying when she would talk to herself. My first thought was why was I thinking of this, so I joked out loud, “Is she still talking to herself, Mom?”

I hear, as clear as day, “No. Now she’s talking to me!” and I heard her laugh. I had an image in my mind of her smiling, looking how she looked in the 1950’s. Short black hair with bright red lipstick on. It felt good seeing her young and vibrant again. I could tell she was full of energy. This first visit fine-tuned my energy, and I’ve been able to tune into her ever since. Sometimes, I’ll call Lexi to validate some of the things I’m hearing.

As time progressed, I noticed a weird thing that would happen when I was writing checks to pay the bills. While writing them out, I started getting the sensation of something trying to take control of my hand, and the look of my writing would change.

Out of the blue one day, I had this overwhelming feeling to write to my childhood friend and let her know my Mom had passed away. My Mom always felt a strong connection to her, and my friend used to call her Mom too. So, I sat down and started to write this letter, when half way through, I could feel my Mom taking over my hand, and she was helping me write to my friend. We finished and I sent it off in the mail, but I never heard back from her. Well, we tried, I said to my Mom, and I let it go.

Writing that letter reminded me of when I asked my Mom if she would do Automatic Writing with me after she passed. I searched for my CD by Tara Sutphen, and found a quiet spot to listen. For this visit, I decided again not to write anything down. I just wanted to enjoy the moment with both of my parents, and I called them into my room.

They both glided through the archway. Their movements were graceful and effortless. We hugged, then sat down on the couch. My Mom told me she had a party when she got there with everyone who had ever meant anything to her from her recent life and past lives too. She was so happy to finally be there. She shared that she was very busy reading and learning how to be back in heaven, but when she talked about being able to dance again, it made her giddy and glow with excitement. My Dad was happy my Mom was there, so they could be together again. Tara’s voice broke into our conversation telling us our visit was nearing its end. We hugged and said our good byes.

It’s hard to describe the feeling I’m left with after visiting my parents. I feel comfort, but it goes way beyond that. Just knowing that they’re around me and helping me from the other side, is very fulfilling. Not long after my visit with them, I was thinking about my Mom’s comment of learning how to be in heaven again.

While cleaning up the family room one day, I picked up a magazine called, Reminisce, and a card the size of a credit card fell out. I turned it over to read it. “I Love You,” popped out with a background of hearts all around it in 3D. I looked at the page the card slid out of. A quote was leaping out at me, and it said, “She was a wonderful bright spot in our lives, and we loved her like a daughter.” I started crying, then, I felt the familiar blanket of energy wrap around me. I wondered how she made this sign happen and all the effort it must have took for her to get that magazine into my hands. Suddenly, I had the impression of my Mom getting my Mother-in-law to slip the card into this magazine because she always gives all of her magazines to my husband to bring home.

“Thank you, Mom.” I said out loud. I believe part of her lessons for being back in heaven, is learning how to give your loved one’s signs that they are okay and watching over you. I asked my parents to leave me dimes, and now I’m finding them all the time. I’ve had experiences with birds hanging around us and not being afraid of us. One day, a dragonfly kept flying around me and my husband in our backyard. It would hover in front of us, fly off and come back again so many times. It was an incredible moment. I even got a sign from our beloved pet, Peanut, when I watched a cloud morph into his image. The signs they send are all around us. We just have to take the moment to notice them.

The next time I contacted Mom through Automatic Writing, I could feel her controlling my hand as it moved across the page. She talked a lot about my writing and how I should pursue it. She would give advice on how to deal with the drama that was happening in our lives. Our visits feel like we’re having breakfast again, and I enjoy them.  

One of our last conversations, while she was still alive, was about her helping me write my book when she gets to the other side. Over time, my metaphysical book has evolved into this blog. As I write this about her, I feel her with me; happy that I’m writing and helping me anyway she can.

In my next metaphysical article, I’ll share my experiences while working with a pendulum. Thanks for stopping by. Comments are welcomed. Bye for now.  

My email address is: Remyel@hotmail.com.

9 thoughts on “Metaphysical: Automatic Writing (part 3)

  1. Wow goosebumps! The good kind. I looked for the author you mentioned but I didn’t see her in audible.com. When does your book come out!? 😊I can tell that it will be amazing and I can’t wait to read more!

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Beautiful words about your precious Mum. P.s I love ‘To the other side and back’ Sylvia Brown, a great writer!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I am touched by your tale of life, love, loss, and learning. It is so great that you continue to grow in your own gifts and open yourself up to share these experiences with others. You have so many meaningful things to offer, I am glad that you are writing!

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.