A very High Medium

My Aunt B in England is a medium - in fact, she is one of the most celebrated mediums in the UK. She is a minister for the spiritualist church and she is one of the most beautiful special people I know. I stayed with her and my Uncle for a few days when I went to visit and we had wonderful talks well into the night: about religion, politics and family. I never ask personal questions relating to her skills. I always thought that it was too much to ask of a woman I admire and love so much. One night I finally asked the question that I been wanting to ask since September. My Aunt was queit for a moment and then answered:

"She has passed through and told me -I can sing again"

My Mum danced and sung competitively as a young girl and loved every minute of it. Unfortunately, it didn't provide money for her family and she had to give it up and work in the local factory at fourteen. She never gave up though and I have many childhood memories of her tap dancing around the kitchen singing songs from her childhood. As time wore on, her voice grew huskier with age and medication, until she couldn't hold a note anymore.

I now go to sleep each night with an image of my Mum tap dancing her way across the heavens singing at the top of her voice and smiling her wonderful smile. My Aunt B is a wonderful woman and will never know the joy she has brought to me in this sad time. In my eyes, she is a very High Medium.....

Christmas is coming

My Mum loved Christmas. She would run around the house singing;

"Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat
Please put a penny in the old mans hat
If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do
If you haven't got a ha'penny
God bless you!"

We would decorate the tree exactly 12 days before Christmas and she made the best mince pies you could ever know. I didn't think about how much she made Christmas, how everything about the day is her.

We have an angel for the tree that was bought when my Mum and Dad first got married (they celebrated their 39th anniversary on 10th December- my Dad was very strong). It is made of cardboard and has a wobbly plastic barbie-like head, with blonde hair that has worn away with the years and which Big M states now looks like a mullet! It has sat atop the tree every year since I can remember and my brother and I worship it's little being. This year my Dad and brother have decided not to put the Christmas tree up at home. So I asked my brother to find the angel and bring her to me. Even though Big M and I have been together for nearly 11 years, this year marks the first year with our own tree. I tried the angel on top of the new tree but it just didn't look right. So she now sits on my table, looking over all around her and every time I pass her I think of Mum and Christmas. And I smile.

And, sometimes, I ask the little being;
How on earth do we celebrate Christmas without my Mum?

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