Saturday, October 4, 2014

Mediums Are Born, Not Made.... The beginnings

Part of me feels an internal need to move through and write things down.  Perhaps it is the affects of Mercury Retrograde already taking their hold or something else deeper within my being.

After all the clearing and cleansing I've been doing these last few years, perhaps it is a way to let the last of things go.

This is part of the reason for my posting these here on my blog at least....

So here we go..... In the Beginning ;)


        In the heart of New Hampshire, the capital of that lovely state, I was born in the early 1960's. The beginnings of winter had descended on my Mother and Father's village when that evening as I recall my Mum's words now, they had been watching TV and labor with me started. My mother's only child and my father's fourth and only daughter was well on her way. I must have been determined even then as her waters broke all over her favorite chair and labor started.
         If it really is true that we choose the family of our birth for lessons in this life time, my birth was to send me into a life that has done just that. Lessons that have been often hard in understanding, however, they have made me who I am today and for that I am so very grateful.
         Back in the 1960's there were no definitive tests for the sex of a child. Years later my father had told me he had always wanted a little red haired girl. That cold November morning he got his wish.
My mother on the other hand I feel wanted a boy. She was brought up in the times where a girl child was not as “special” as a boy child for a woman. In some ways it was almost a status that a woman had produced a fine and healthy son. Oh don't get me wrong she loved her little redhead as best she could, but in years to come that desire of hers enveloped our little world in some of the most bizarre ways.
         In the wee early hours of a newly Sagittarius morning I was born. That Sagittarius sign would do me well over the years as well as create many lessons. My father had just returned home I remember him telling me on doctor's recommendations as he thought “it would take a while.” I started arguing with doctors at a very early age because no sooner had my father come home than he received a call saying I was almost there. So he dawned on his coat and hat for the journey back from Boscawen to Concord on old route 3 on a very cold dark morning.
         With my mother sedated and my father waited for me to be shown off by the nurses at the giant nursery window. At almost 50 my father got his wish, a healthy orange topped baby girl weighing in at just over six pounds. I don't know how he felt exactly in those early morning hours. I have no idea what he was thinking on the drive back to the hospital knowing this Brown child was well on her way. All I know is that he bought a box of cigars with “It's a Girl” emblazoned on the wrapper and still had two of them until his passing almost exactly 14 years later.
        My father at nearly 50 and my mother almost 31 had their blessing. With the name of Ada May for both of their late mothers, I went home a week later. When they brought me home, pictures began to be taken on every occasion. Some in the most classic of forms, with baby bum in the air. Early on I was doted upon as most babies are in their early lives.
         According to my parents' stories I was full of energy from the get go. My mother was so astonished on how early I took my first steps that she called my father at work to tell him. He came home later that evening to see me get up from the blanket on the floor and toddle over to him a few feet away. From that point on there was no stopping me. I remember one of my parent's favorite tales of our trip to Hampton Beech when I was just over one year of age. My mother and father took their eyes off me for just a moment and zoom, I was off to see what the waves were doing as they started to rush in. My father, was very agile thankfully and saved me from a ducking, albeit I was kicking and screaming a bit as I wanted to see that waves!
         The pictures show us in our initial home with smiles on everyone's faces. Family visiting and holding the munchkin that was me. My one grandparent, Grandpa Earl, playing with me as he held me. Our small two bedroom home, extended and added to by my father before my birth, was warm and happy that first year or so.
         It wasn't long after my birth that Dad had the moving bug and sold that little house. We moved into a home in Penacook which one I'm not exactly certain as the years fade memories.
         This was not to be the first move, but one of many in my early growing years Dad with his series of moving itches as well as financial woes had us move from house, to apartment on many occasions. The third home we had in my short two years of life was an apartment on the bottom floor of a set of flats. The brown outer shingles covered the building. My play area was the empty parking spaces between the land lords' home and the apartments.
         It was a move to a set of flats in Penacook, across from the old Tannery, which was still in operation at the time, that my parents began to realize my unique abilities. This set of flats was unfortunately the scene of a murder just over a decade before. The crime scene was that of my mother’s mother, my grandmother Ada Mae.

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