Maybe believing in something bigger than myself is just what I needed.
I know that psychics and mediums get a bad rep, and for good reason: there’s a good portion of them that are scammers. Remember Miss Cleo (R.I.P.)? From speaking to a lot of people regarding the whole psychic phenomena, they either shake their head in disgust, or they’ve had pretty amazing results.
Basically, it’s hit or miss.
When I was younger, I spoke to a psychic about my grandfather.
“He has cancer. They may be moving him to a hospice. Can you tell me when he’ll die?”
While holding my hand, closing her eyes, and taking a few moments to “scan my aura” she then said, “I give him 3 months.” Yes, within 3 months, my grandfather had died.
A naive Liza thought it was unbelievable that she had known how much time he had. Present Liza is now much more aware that once you mention hospice, there’s a good chance (not all the time, but a lot of the time) that the sick person will pass quickly.
So, whomp whomp! I won’t deny her ability, but, common sense prevails on this round.
When speaking to my friends who have had good experiences, they explained that they gave little to no information, and the psychic just started pouring out personal information that no one could possibly know. THAT'S the kind of story that bothers me ...
HOW? Is it REAL? Did I just have a dud the last time?
I started trying for my son in 2010 with devastating results. Every month was a huge disappointment, and though my doctors insisted nothing was wrong and that I should be able to conceive with no issues, it just wasn’t happening.
With a desperation I can only describe as pitiful, I logged online and looked for someone to help me. At that point, I would have taken anyone’s service because I just had one goal on my mind: BABY!
I sent my $20 via PayPal to a psychic from some website that I don’t even think exists anymore. A chat box appeared and I asked him my one question. “Will I be able to have a baby?”
He told me that I’d be pregnant by October (it was July at the time), and that I needed to do some weird chanting. I was to hold a bottle of water and repeat some of the things he had typed out. Honestly, I don’t remember the exact words but I remember feeling completely silly.
A little over a month later, in September, I found out I was pregnant with what would turn out to be my son. Happenstance or did that voodoo water boll trick actually work? I’m not sure.
I think at the time, I needed to feel that something — a force outside my own failing body — was helping me, so I believed.
This past January, my father passed away. I still haven’t really processed it, and I’m not entirely sure when that whole grieving thing will happen, but for now, I hold the emotions at bay, pushing them deep down whenever they try to come up for air.
My mother, on the other hand, wears her desolation on her sleeve. I wanted to help her in some way. So I went to Fiverr: a site where all services start at … you guessed it, $5. (A girl is on a budget, and I wasn’t about to waste more than that on something I couldn’t be sure is real.)
I contacted a medium, and asked if she’d be able to connect with my father. She explained that mediumship is not guaranteed because not all spirits are willing to be contacted and that if she should have trouble, my $5 would be refunded. Easy peasy!
She asked for his first name and his birthday, so I provided willingly. My father was nowhere to be found on the internet so any Google searches would come up empty if she had planned on pulling a fast one.
“He’s funny. He’s wearing shorts. I see a cat. He’s telling me he’s proud of you and loves you.” My father was, indeed, a quick-witted, hysterical man. My mother had bought him shorts before his health rapidly declined. We had a cat who is now deceased. And EFF yes, he better be proud of me!
I’m not entirely sure why, but it was comforting, like grilled cheese with extra melty cheese. However, my mother wasn’t satisfied. “Does he still love me?” She begged. She needed an answer.
This medium was unable to connect to my father any longer.
With my mom crying, I looked through the site for another medium with 5 star reviews. I quickly sent over my money, and waited. This medium needed a picture, and his name, as well as a picture of my mother, and her name. Alrighty then!
“He’s making jokes but I don’t get them. He’s laughing. I see Planter’s Peanuts? He’s ecstatic that he’s able to connect and send a message. He absolutely loves you and your mom.”
Again, my father was funny; he had a funny face. It wasn’t that he looked weird, it was just that his smile, and laugh was contagious. The photo I had provided is the one here, where he’s smiling. As far as the Planter’s Peanuts go, that’s creepy: for the first time in years, we recently bought Planter’s Peanuts and my husband had been eating them on his trip home from work. Why was he so excited to connect if he recently connected with the other medium?
Questions I’ll never have the answers to. But it made my mom feel better to know he still loved her.
So, is that what this is all about? Is believing in a psychic or medium another type of faith? One that gives us comfort in times of sadness, and despair?
I won’t lie, my heart was full when I read the words, “He’s proud of you.” For $5, both my mother and I were comforted to know that my dad’s spirit is still alive and well. Whether or not it’s a legit service is still up for debate, but any time my heart can be put at ease, I’ll take it.
If you go in with an open mind, and heart, you just may be surprised to see what these “experts” can deliver. Even if it’s forced, and Googled, if it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad, right?