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Fighting the truth – till now!
My maternal grandmother was a noted spiritualist and medium running her own church – The Temple of Spiritual Faith in Plymouth, Devon in the 1920’s and 30’s. During and just after WWII, I lived with my gran and she often spoke about her belief system, spirit guides, messages from spirits, you name it within the psychic world, she talked about it and as a young boy, I was fascinated with her stories but mainly because she was my gran and I had a deep love and respect for her. She gave me several messages which she said came from her spirit guide – White Cloud – including the fact that whatever I did with my life, I would never be harmed as I was going to live to a ripe old age and die naturally.
Years rolled by and when I was 9 years of age, we were living in Portsmouth, Hampshire as my father was a serving in the Royal Navy and he was posted there from Devon. 1953 was a very significant year for me for many reasons:
(1) My little sister, who I felt much attached to, supposedly died one afternoon and we were never allowed to discuss her or talk about it, which we never did.
(2) I had my first unexplained experience some fifty feet off the ground up a steep chalk quarry face where I was climbing for the honour of our gang. I was some fifteen feet from the top when all holds ran out and I was unable to make any further upwards progress and climbing back down was definitely not an option. Just as I was about to fall off the cliff face, I heard a voice behind me whisper to me telling me not to worry as it was not my time. I felt someone breathe on my neck and all of a sudden I rolled over the top of the cliff face, safe and well.
(3) 2 weeks later, with the thought of what my gran told me, my arrogance started to take over my behaviour and once again I found myself climbing the walls of Portchester Castle. I was some forty feet off the ground when I slipped off the wall but a hand reached down and grabbed me and pulled me into an open window. There was no one there just a ruined room with no way out to the top and a barricaded door at the bottom which a friend had to unblock to let me out.
(4) A month later, I was walking along a waste sewage pipe which stretched way out into the sea (the tide was out) for a bet. One slip would introduce me to the slimy mud that lay both sides of the pipe and many an object thrown either side for fun saw it sink quickly down into the deep slime so a slip would not be conducive to health and safety – mine. I got to the end of the downward sloping pipe but when I tried to return up the sloping pipe, I realised the mud and seaweed was not going to allow me to keep my feet firmly attached to the pipe. I became cocooned in a bubble of silence – I heard a whooshing sound – in front of me were five dancing balls of light –red, green, blue, yellow and orange. They danced ion front of me and started to move backwards along the pipe and I felt a sudden urge to follow them which I did without realising what I was doing. I took my eyes off the dancing balls of light for a second, they vanished and I slipped off the pipe just a few feet away from the shingle beach.
As the years past, other unexplained occurrences happened, but I just accepted them and got on with my life. Unfortunately, (or fortunately) I decided to lead a life of adventure which entailed teasing death to call if it dared knowing what my gran had earlier told me. I pushed the boundaries of safety whilst rock climbing, caving, canoeing, mountaineering and other outdoor activities. Five near death experiences followed. Nine other potentially serious situations were averted by unexplained phenomenon but I kept on pushing the boundaries of common sense.
On top of the voices, the dancing balls of light, the breathing on my neck,
the feeling of someone’s hand in the small of my back when my life seemed in danger, I started to see apparitions and people. Some of the people I knew, others were strangers. As I got into my fifties, my beloved gran had long since departed as did my father. I had always been at odds with my father as he used to laugh at my gran and my mother who had ‘the gift’ like her mother which made my mother turn her back on her spirit guides who kept trying to encourage her back into ’the spiritualist fold’.
I became fed up with not knowing why these things were happening to me, so like my mother; I turned my back and started to ignore it all. My ‘risky’ adventurous life started to abate and I started to modify my risk taking preferring to live a long life as the doubts of my gran’s statement about me living to a ripe old age and dying naturally, was wearing thin given the loss of so many close climbing friends.
Then one day whilst climbing in the Nepal Himalaya, I was feeling at the lowest I had ever felt but had no reason to feel this way as my life was good. I had a successful business; a loving soul mate for a wife; money to allow me to pursue my climbing activities; good health, great friends, but at this point, it all felt valueless. Then I saw my father who had been dead some twenty years. We had a long conversation and I was able to tell him all the things I wanted to tell him but never did. My spirits lifted and he vanished as quickly as he came.
My soul mate was taken from me suddenly and unexpectedly when she was just 53 and I was 61. I became angry at the world, at everything. I went on a long solo vision quest to work through my grieving and bereavement processes and came to the decision to ignore everything I had been told by my gran and my mother about spirituality.
Now I am 69 years of age. I have this insatiable desire to find my spirituality once again and to feel connected to my chakras which I have ignored for so long. I started to attend a weekly small session of like minded people in a private house and the flood gates appear to have started to be open. On my third visit I received messages in the way of imagery for other people in the room and despite really wanting to hear that caring voice I had heard so many times in my long adventurous life, all I got was silence, just imagery and feelings.
My lovely mother is 92 but has Alzheimer’s and so having lucid conversations with her is not something that happens and as I have never told my mother about all the things that have happened to me since I was nine years of age in 1953, I regret not having dome so before her memory and mind went walk about for good.
Tonight, (Tuesday 15th Oct 2013) at 7pm, I rang my mother who is living in a residential specialist care home, just to say hi. I suddenly had the urge to tell her I had been attending (on three occasions up till then) that I was attending “those meetings gran used to have in our front room”. I did not expect any response but was shocked to hear my mother say: “It’s about time, good for you, keep going”.
I took the bull by the horns and started to ask my mother about my gran, about spirits, about messages and about spirit guides. She spoke very lucidly about it all as if she was her old self before the Alzheimer’s set in. I decided to tell her about the voices behind me but nothing else as I felt it might be too much for her to take in. She said immediately, “You have uncle Bertie with you all the time”. I asked her what and who she was talking about. She told me that he was her uncle and came to spirituality, and being physically aware late in life, around my age now and that he became a noted medium. He died way back before I was born and she said he chose to be my spirit guide when I was born in the middle of an air raid in 1944.
Suddenly, it all became clear. It was if I had been living in a dark room and someone had just switched the light on. I asked her why he was not talking to me then and she just said: “you have lost your faith. Get it back and he will talk to you again”.
Being overwhelmed with it all, I realised my mother was getting tired and so I asked her one last thing before saying good night and that I loved her very much: “Do you still have your faith Mum”. She replied: “I have never lost it despite not continuing working with my spirit guides”.
So, here I am. Sitting at my computer typing this article for you to read and feeling, my life has direction again, has meaning and despite people telling me I am ‘too old to work’, should ‘rest and take it easy in my old age’, I am young again, I have a sense of purpose and I am working hard on regaining my belief and faith in the hope Uncle Bertie will talk to me again and we can work together for the benefit of others.
Be well and be safe.
Frank
Carlisle
Cumbria
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