MoonRise Mountain

Cindy McEnery's Picture

I remember a note I got from my son Drew, not long after he arrived in Vail, Colorado. It simply said: "Last night I skied the Continental Divide under a full moon!"

A few nights ago, a friend and I rode to the top of the Continental Divide under a full moon, and coasted into Vail Valley in a car we weren't sure was going to make it.

The car began to slow. It huffed and puffed up the mountains from the Denver plain, getting slower with every mile. It was dying! But Cindy, my friend, had her wits about her. And rather than getting stuck in the Eisenhower Tunnel, right on our front bumper, she chugged and coaxed the altitude impaired car off the road just in time. Imagine the mess on a Thursday evening, clogging the only tunnel over this part of the Colorado Rockies. I don't want to think about it.

I especially don't want to think about it as I was there more or less illegally, having left my picture ID at home before trying to board the outward bound flight to Colorado. But somehow, some nice people at Airport Security, after a few pertinent questions, decided I wasn't connected to any dark forces, and let me fly. But I didn't want to clog up the tunnel and have anyone re-thinking that decision.

Then something happened that makes you want to say, "Hmmmmm..."

We had no sooner chugged to a dead stop at a turn-off at the mouth of the tunnel, when a Roads Department vehicle pulled up alongside us. There were two bearded men inside it. (I could have sworn they were from the mountains of Virginia). We hadn't seen them behind us. They just appeared.

They asked, "What seems to be the matter?" So we told them the symptoms. Quite simple.  "It slowed down and stopped!" They diagnosed the problem, Vapor Lock at altitude, which sounded like a fit of the vapors to us.  They told us to wait a few minutes and everything would be ok. So we did, and it was (except for the bear tracks Cindy found on the soft sand around the car) and when we turned around, the vehicle and the bearded men had vanished. We didn't see them come and we didn't see them go...

I was so relieved, I said, "They were Angels!" Cindy thought so too. And I could have sworn that the sign on the door of the vehicle said VDOT (Virginia Dept. of Transportation) It should have been CDOT. Helloooo...

But no matter who they were, or where they were from, it was a good feeling to have Angels riding the mountains with us. The moon was brilliant, the air was cool, and the mountains were breath taking as we cruised into the sea of twinkling lights of Vale Valley. A homecoming of sorts, a reunion with my own angel Drew, in many ways.

Yippeee!

Yes, Ghosts Do Like to Shop!

In my last blog, I talked about how so many of us have our own stories about our encounters with spirits. At every book signing, every presentation, these stories just pour out of people, as though they've been dammed up a long time. Well, not anymore. It's okay to talk about them now.

The thing that intrigues me most, and lends validation to this whole line of thought is this: Our stories are so many, and so similar, that there is no reason not to believe that they are what they are. Real.

And here's another one: A couple of weeks ago, a fellow writer blogged a story about shopping with a ghost! (You can read her blog at http:www.ghosttalkblog.com)

I can relate to that. In my book, "By Morning's Light", I tell the story of having lunch with a girlfriend of Drew's before they split up, just before he passed. I hadn't seen her since the Memorial Service and wanted to give her a present. Well, I shopped all afternoon and nothing caught my eye. Funny thing was, I hit on one store, and for some reason, although I wasn't finding anything there I wanted, I stayed all afternoon. It never occurred to me to try another store. (I can tell you exactly where everything was is in that store because I walked by it so many times.) I just kept looking for the perfect gift. Somehow knowing it was there.

2-3 hours later, I had almost given up, and was about to settle for a scarf or something totally without personality, when I walked past a counter and there, under the glass, was something I'd never thought of, something that had never crossed my mind to get. But it was right.

I bought it, The salesperson wrapped it in tissue paper and put it in a bag and I left the store on cloud nine! But...would Drew's friend like it??? I had no idea.

So, we met for lunch, and just as we were getting sentimental, I gave her the gift thinking it would cheer us up. Well! She burst into tears, so did I.

I said, "WHAT! What's going on?"

"Oh my God! This silver card holder with the butterfly etched on the cover, is the exact same gift I bought for Drew just days before we broke up!" She dabbed her eyes. "But, he never knew about it because he died before I could give it to him..."

Drew had been shopping with me. "Oh yes, he did!" I told her. "This is from Drew - telling you he knew about it, knows about it ... he's acknowledging it! This is a gift from him."

After shopping all morning for the perfect gift, I had been guided by Drew to this gift, to this place, to this girl with this gift. Coincidence? Well, you know what I think about that!

Believe.

BY MORNING'S LIGHT.

One Story One Path

It's been a year full of insight for me: The year I spent introducing hundreds and thousands of people to "By Morning's Light." The true story of my reconnection with my son Drew in the Hereafter. (As the cover says).

I wish I could have met all of you who have either read, or picked up the book for yourself or a friend. Meeting so many of you at the presentations and book signings all over the country this year has been one of the super highlights of my life. Talking about the book, sharing my thoughts and amazement with you, has been a wonderful experience and still is. But the best part of all of this is what I have learned from you.

My favorite part of any presentation is when we open it up to include your questions, your opinions, and your stories. It never fails in every gathering around this book, that nearly everyone has a story of their own to share. The more stories I hear the more insight I gain, and Drew's story is validated over and over again. Your stories have lifted me, excited me and kicked my certainty up a hundred notches!

The really phenomenal thing about this is that all our stories are saying the same thing. Every contact, pat or hug from the Other Side, tells us that life doesn't end - it changes. And there are far too many similar stories from people from every walk of life and belief system, to think that we are all 'seeing things' or that millions of imaginations are running wild. That makes no sense in a logical world.  It makes no sense at all for us all to be so mistaken. The other thing is, everyone who has experienced this phenomena, doesn't just believe what they've seen, they know they weren't imagining things. Believers and skeptics alike.

So don't stop believing! There is nothing weird about seeing, hearing or talking to spirits. To my way of thinking, it's a natural part of who we are in body mind and spirit, living here on earth for the time being.

And there is no conflict that I can see with even with the most dogmatic religious teachings. Don't they all ask us to 'speak to God' or to Jesus, or Mary? To pray to Allah or ask the angels for help?
Of course they do.

Talk to your angels. Speak to God, and feel the spirits you love around you all the time. They are with you, they'll never leave you, you can talk to them, and one day we'll all be face to face again. I promise.

Thank you with all my heart for reading the book and for sharing your own stories with us.
I hope I'll see you at some of the presentations this coming year. All over the Commonwealth.

Ghost Talk

Hi Everyone,

If you like my blog, I know you'll enjoy http://www.ghosttalkblog.com  It's owner is Beverley Young, an intuitive, sensitive and thoughtful blogger. She writes well and I think you'll appreciate her many topics.

Beverley recently posted a review of By Morning's Light. Really good.
Happy reading!
http://www.ginny-brock.blogspot.comhttp://www.ghosttalkblog.com
Ginny

At the Beach.

Riding With You Down Country Roads,

 I drove down to South Carolina and the beach last week. It should have been an easy ride; I was longing to see my family who had gathered for the annual get-together, I couldn't wait to get to the beach, and the weather promised to be beautiful. What fun!
So much for that. I was as nervous as a cat in a sack because I'd never driven this way before and what's more, it was just Becca (my 14 year old granddaughter) and me making the trip. Everything depended on ME not to lose my way, not to panic, not to mess up. Too much responsibility. I was sweating for days before I left. Called all my friends to keep their cell phones handy in case someone had to come and rescue me.
But early on Monday morning, we piled into the car and took off. Becca's duffle bag weighed more than the back seat of my car. Good! Plenty of clothes. We wouldn't freeze. In July. I could breathe.
And then suddenly, I laughed! That familiar WHOOSH! of warm air filled the car, and I knew Drew was travelling with us. 'Every step of the way, remember, Mom?'
I remembered. "Beck," I said, "I have the strongest feeling that Uncle Drew is going to the beach with us!"
"Mmmm..." she was already snoozing.
"Just you wait - he's going to play one of his favorite songs for us - somewhere between here and there. And I'm thinking it'll be Nickelback's "Photograph." 
"Mmmm..."
My nerves settled down. The early morning countryside going south was beautiful. Rolling hills, wild flowers ... I felt like singing. But I didn't. I just breathed deeply and relaxed into the drive.
Two hours later, Becca awoke in time to help navigate us through the Greensboro interchange between Route 68 and Interstate 40. Hectic! Multi-lane madness! Traffic all over the place, I clutched the steering wheel with all my might, nerves in high gear, put my head down and drove.
Suddenly, there was a little tap on my knee. "Mimi - listen ..."
I listened. Nickelback was singing, "Photograph".
Of course. "... every step of the way, Mom."
And I began to sing. Until three hours later when we got stuck in the South Carolina mud. More about that next time.
Take care!

I Must Be Dreaming ...

I wonder about dreams. Don't we all?

Some dreams I get; I totally understand dreams that seem to be leftovers from the previous day. A kaleidoscope of images, impressions, fears and excitements of the last few days or weeks. I recognize the circumstances and the people and so, I know what we're talking about here - my brain and I. The other dreams I understand well are the dreams that aren't really dreams, but visits from people I'm missing, people who have passed over, people who live thousands of miles away - or right next door, if they've been on my mind.

These special dreams are so real you can almost reach out and touch them. You can feel the warmth emanating from the other person, smell that person's special scent, feel the emotions coming from him or her. And they almost always have a message for you.

Take one I had not long ago about old friends of mine who I hadn't seen for months - but had every intention of calling ... In the dream, the husband and wife were standing together and she was saying,
"We can handle it." He was quiet. I felt very strongly that there was something physically wrong with him. So I called them that morning.
"Is everything alright?" I asked. "No," my friend said. "Jack has just been diagnosed with something they have no cure for. But we can handle it ... we'll handle it," she said.

Always follow up on dreams like this. Sometimes the meaning isn't quite as clear. But hang onto the dream and it will almost always show it's meaning very soon.
In another dream, a young friend of mine was twirling in a knee-length wedding dress. I could smell the scent of the bouquet she held, her cheeks were pink and there was a glow about her I could almost feel. Later on that day, I called her mother who said, "Isn't that funny! Maryanne and I were talking about what kind of wedding dress she had in mind ... she was adamant that it would not be a long gown. A short dress," she said. "Nothing too formal."  It surprised me. I always thought Maryanne would go for the whole long gown, train and bridesmaids galore. Apparently not. 

And then there are those strange flashes of dreams that usually careen around right before I fall asleep. They're filled with strange faces. People I don't recall ever seeing, in places I've never been to. These too, are very real. Vibrant. Although I never hear voices or any conversation out of them. Who are they? The faces are clear but quite unknown to me. Who are they? There's not much action around them - they're just like - now you see them, now you don't.
Well, your guess is as good as mine. Are they bleedthroughs of long forgotten faces in a throng? A crowd? Someone I met very briefly - and forgot immediately? Why would my brain through them up now? Or, are they people from another life? A parallel universe? Friends from the other side? People I knew before I came to earth?
One day we'll find out. In the meantime, I'll wonder. And always be amazed.
Sleep well my friends, stay well, and I wish you pleasant dreams.