CHAPTER 3
GIVE ME YOUR HAND…
WOMEN`S DAY TODAY… GREAT TIMING SINCE THERE WAS NO WAY I WAS MAKING DINNER TONIGHT ANYWAYS!
My son doesn’t get the concept of Women’s Day (even though he was baptized by one of them whilst a baby at the “St. Antoine” church in Laval, Québec).
You see, his generation didn’t really have to struggle with the concept of Equality of the sexes (he even thinks that, for certain subjects, it is the other way around…). For us in our cold province, we have warmed up to the concept long ago. All we need now is to kindly pass on the message to all the new comers to our communities that there are things like that which make us different. Good different...
But my baby clearly sees that I cannot take anymore of this! I eventually got used to my permanent daily back pain but now my arm? I have no idea how to deal with that one now.
I feel totally helpless.
I did have a chat about it with my Dr McDreamy who charges by the hour (here in Québec, usually when you get to see a doctor.
I say get to see as the system is free but far from perfect as the government keeps on reducing the budget
(you normally don’t pay anything).
Here, if you want to see a doctor quickly you need to “show him the money!”.
Unlike for my dear brother who lives on the other side of the planet, who can still book a free doctor’s appointment and see him the next day (worse, usually he waits less than 5 minutes in the waiting room and even better can book his appointment online!).
Here, with our public system, he had to line up from 6 am in order to hope he could get a spot to see a doctor later that day (not ideal in winter!), then come at the set hour to wait some more…
At least my Dr McDreamy quickly noticed that my arm was in bad shape.
Therefore, he offered to jab me, on my next appointment, some product (which of course i had to pay for) to take care of the pain (not taking care however of the root of the problem).
I even went as far as the North Shore in Blainville to see an osteopath (with the traffic here, it is quite a journey having to cross like six bridges…
oh did I tell you about our bridges system? A few years back, when my mom was still working, one of the bridges she used daily to get to her job collapsed on its own, killing a few people and causing a lot of anxiety to a lot of people crossing our many fragile bridges…), because of the intolerable pain I was experiencing.
And believe me, it had to be painful to attempt such a perilous trek. There I receive a soothing massage which did numb the pain for a while but after my venture back through bridge county, the pain was back with a vengeance! Yet, on spring day, March 8, on the day of the women, my son simply told me:
« Come with me mommy, trust me! ». of course, I did.
A mother must eternally have an unshakeable trust in her progenity.
First, he started by feeling my arm, softly,
As if he had some kind of a sonar in his hand. Then he manipulated it as if he knew what he was doing.
I didn’t know then if I had to keep my eyes open or closed but I was indeed memorized by his dedication: out of sheer necessity to help his loved one, he had suddenly received the gift of healing (we talked about his gift often before. He used to tell me stories of him helping a number of friends during the yearly summer camps he used to evade the stress of life and communicate with nature and the universe!).
But this time, seeing him in action, working his “magic” on me, it was something else!
So, instantly, I felt a great warmth which overran my entire arm. Sure, there was some pain in the process, but contrarily to what my Mc Dr was offering, this option had the great added bonus to somehow coat my arm with a velvety plaster of protection against pain as I felt an immediate relief.
I saw this in the past when my daddy took me to a “guérisseur” (healer) one day…
(I just remembered this minute that the man was the father of my own personal “school bully” at my primary school!). As if the universe wanted his dad to repair his wrongs somehow… These gifted men have their own affectations and ticks that my own son was now repeating himself without ever having seen anyone else do it, as if it was an intrinsic part of the gift he had received.
So, there and now, in front of my own eyes, my one and only son performed an “healing miracle” just for me, with the gift that was bestowed upon him by our lord.
And yet, SOMEHOW, I wasn’t surprised. I somehow instinctively knew since he was a baby, that he had magic hands. Call it mother’s intuition.
I somehow knew that we were like connected through the same power cord since birth, as if the umbilical cord was never really severed…
From a long time ago, I often only had to think of something for him to understand me. Even now it is common for us to somehow communicate that way.
But this was something else! My baby just healed me! When I showed my arm to my far away “bone specialist” the following week he said: “see, we are good aren’t we!”. I said nothing but I smiled. Needless to say, that was my last ever appointment with my doctor from far, far away…
From the day he was born, my son has seen his mom in constant pain. How powerful a motivation for a loving child to endeavour to develop such a special “skill”!
And when his “Mamie-Sanne d’amour” (grandma’s nickname), who affectionately nicknamed him “mon minou bleu” (my blue kitty cat) was fighting a cancer, it must have somehow marked him. Or did it actually help him in his development process?
Nevertheless, since then I haven’t had any pain in my arm. And all it took was two treatments. Furthermore, THEY were free!
As if this wasn’t incredible enough, strangely, since that moment, our little girl dog, which we now fondly nickname “Dr” Piwie developed the instinct to sleep on me whenever a treatment has been particularly painful (as it was with my arm) or more precisely to sleep on the affected area in a ball (more surprising because she is s Jack Russell which normally never stays in one place for long normally).
For an hour? More? I never knew as every single time I fell in a soothing remedial sleep. However, each time, when I woke up, she was always there on my arm!
Furthermore, every time we woke up, instead of looking at me, she always looked at the sky while her tail was bouncing joyfully. Weird hey? Viva Piwie! She also says « I love you », sometimes but never in front of a camera...
And there and then, I felt like I had to regain my long “lost” gift as well. As if I came out of my torpor suddenly. First step: listen to the sessions I once had with my own personal clairvoyant on my old “fuchsia” mobile phone, over and over, and over.
According to my mentor, I had to first drink the juice of one lemon (I used to put two, maybe that was the bug?). I a bottle of water, add a pinch of cayenne pepper and, of course, some maple syrup, to taste, but not too much.
Since we are in Québec, the capital of maple syrup (sorry Vermont but hey!), we have ample options to choose from for the best syrup available. My personal choice is the one from the Beaudoin family in Beauce (region near Québec City – we’ll talk about royalties later Beaudoin family lol).
It brings me back straight to my youth. It has the taste of the old grey sugar shack where we went, every winter with my family (they were legion then) one weekend of spring on the Côte St. Louis Rd, the three of us swaddled in our orange sleigh, pulled by my daddy on his mighty snow mobile.
(Yuck! Papa! If you knew, it is not “politically correct” to use real fur these days, and it is better this way!).
So, I drank it every day as prescribed by my medium-doctor. I was adamant: I wanted to do better spiritually. I wanted to regain my former gift.
It’s funny when I think about it in retrospect, was it a message from you PAPA?
You took me once, after I don’t remember which one of my numerous accidents, to a wise Chinese man in a shop of Chinatown (it looked a bit like the one in Gremlins?) in Montréal, the big city” far away. Montréal, once the capital of my limited universe.
After piercing me with a million needles, he too gave you that same recipe to heal your poor daughter.
I remember that, every day, you religiously drank it with me so I could get better (spiritually?).
It was true that I had not been in touch with my gift for what seemed to be an eternity. I lost it on a sunny summer day, quite simply because I started to DOUBT. Doubt about my “talent”, about the angels, the guides, the spirits, about everything! About God while we’re at it…!
Long ago, in my teenage years, i learnt to develop my gift with the help of my aunt MICHELINE (who too had the gift of CLAIRVOYANCE, MEDIUM, healer, and whatever else…) about automatic writing.
Talking with dead people, when you got it, it’s a piece of cake really. to me it came easy, like a second skin!
It wasn’t perfect to begin with though. Sometimes I lost “the link”. So, I was very careful. I used a pencil so I could erase my mistakes, and I wrote in a REAL notebook, one the “professionals” used (can’t be too careful!).
We also “played” my family and I with a homemade « Ouija ». We couldn’t find one so we used letters from the game « Probe » and a wine glass. I was the master of ceremony.
We often played, me and my friends Julie and Myriam before our weekly outings to the big city.
I also did some card reading for fun too.
(Note to the tax office: I “might” have once (or twice) asked for a couple of dollars in “loan” when I was broke but most times it was just for fun, ok? Sometimes I bartered my skills for an angel ornament or a coffee but I then decided not to anymore…).
But one evening, I remember it as if it was yesterday, I went out with my best friend Julie see a woman to whom she was providing medical treatments.
Little anecdote, the woman lived in the same then the magician of the moment Alain Choquette http://www.alainchoquette.ca/ who often appeared on the TV show AD LIB (the Québec equivalent of the Tonight Show at the time). He is now making a killing in France.
He was even a consultant to your David Copperfield once.
So, that night, I read the ladies’ future in my cards. However, this time, her past, present and future had nothing in common with the fairy tale stories in my notebook. All I saw was horror, suffering, incest and what else. Way, WAY TOO MUCH for the little naïve suburban girl that I was who had always been pampered and shielded by her loving family from her youth. That reality, I certainly wasn’t ready for…
... So, I abruptly drop the “gig” all together (except perhaps, for a few of my girlfriends when they had boy problems). I don’t want to see this ever again, not anymore. Only for those whom I knew their life from my youth. Period!
When you have something real special, you seem to realize how precious it was only when you loose it, it seems. Only after I lost my direct link with the archangels did I feel the loneliest. All alone… but as the saying goes, if one door closes, another one always opens up…
It all started slowly, innocently. At first it came through my dreams: I was regularly been visited by relatives who had passed away who simply came to deliver their messages. Sometimes for their family members, sometimes for me. It was very peaceful, full of warmth. I was real young the first time a family member came to visit me, but this time for real:
An aunt had just passed away but no one told me about it. That same night, I was in the living room (I used to love falling asleep there because it had our one and only television set). But that time, I wasn’t asleep.
She simply appeared in from of me, asking me to say goodbye for her to my papa and maman. She then left without a sound. Being the good girl, I was, I didn’t scream. I didn’t want to wake the whole house up. So, I calmly knocked on the door next to the living room where my parents were sleeping.