Years ago when I was around six years old my Mother brought a baby brother into the world on Christmas Day. I and my siblings gathered around her bed on Christmas morning and we were told that this is what God had sent to us as a present from him. We named him David. Six weeks later David died of a hole in the heart, as you can imagine we were all devastated, and being so young couldn’t understand why God had taken away my baby brother.

Weeks after his funeral I went into my parents bedroom after hearing my Mother cry out, it was a terrible wailing sound. I found her on the floor clutching in her hand a bootie of David’s, which must have been trapped down the foot of the bed. We thought we had disposed of his clothes but obviously missed this one bootie.

I remember trying to console my Mother and reassuring her that David was now in Heaven with God, but my Mother was so very distressed and she was wailing that there was no God, and no Heaven, and if there was a God he could not be good as he took her baby from her.

This event in my young life had a very profound effect on me.

I took to asking others whenever I had the chance as to where people went to when they died. I received vague answers. Some said they didn’t really know, some said Heaven, and a few told me that the worms ate your body. I remember how traumatised I was on hearing this news.

These events set me on a quest to find out what happened to us when we died.

My Late Teens

One day I was introduced to Helen. Helen was psychic. During the course of our conversation, which was about what happens to us when we died. I told her that I sometimes thought I was a bit odd as on occasions when something happened I knew about it in advance. She went on to say that I wasn’t odd, but psychic like her. She told me about a church where some people were trained to speak to the souls who had moved on to the other life. They were able to communicate with souls who had passed on and thus provide proof of life after death. I remember feeling absolute joy at this news and couldn’t wait to go with her to her Church. I had to wait a few days to visit the Church with Helen and by the time Sunday came around I was so excited at the thought of being with people who I thought at long last could answer my questions.

The service began like all the other Church services I had been to in my life, the person taking the service read from the Bible, we then sang some hymns, but instead of a Minister preaching a sermon a woman addressed the congregation, giving a short talk. When she finished her talk she then began to single out individuals and proceeded to give them information from their loved ones who had passed over.

Sitting there watching the proceedings I noted that the people seemed very happy to hear from their loved ones, a few were very emotional, some were laughing and nodding in agreement at what the lady was saying to them. I was enjoying this service as was the rest of the congregation as we were participating and not just sitting being talked at. I was thinking how great this all was but hoped that she wouldn’t single me out. Just as I thought this the lady pointed to me and told me that there was a soul standing beside me holding the cross of the Catholic Church over my head, she went on to say that this was my Grandmother on my Mothers side of the family, she said that I was a Healer and that one day I would use my ability for the good of others. I shook my head protesting that it couldn’t possibly be my Grandmother as my family were all Church of Scotland. She gave me some more information that I could relate to and I remember some very good advice. After the service, standing outside the Church I looked around at all the people walking about and wanted to shout out to everyone “there is no death” and there is evidence to prove this. A week later I was visiting with my older sister Liz and told her about my experience in the Church and how my supposed Grandmother came through holding the cross of the Catholic Church above my head. It was then that I found out that my Grandmother had come to Scotland from Ireland as a young girl and my sister informed me that she was indeed Catholic. She met my Grandfather and married, and in those days woman were expected to take on the religion of their husbands. I never knew my Grandmother as she passed over before I was born.