The First Time I "Read" Someone

            I was shocked the first time I ever read someone else.  By reading, I mean looking at the person and seeing, as though I were watching a movie, events occurring in that person’s life.  I was at a bar and grill waiting for a couple of teachers to join me.  A man came over and began to hit on me.  I told him I was married and that I was not interested.  However, he kept talking to me. 

            Suddenly, I started feeling a little fuzzy, like I had been drinking, but was not quite drunk.  (I had not been drinking).  I said, “I know you are recently divorced.  You are a fireman and your wife did not like the fact that you were always on call.  You walked in on her and her doctor having sex in your bed.”

            He looked at me and went pale.  His jaw dropped.  He asked me how I knew that.  I told him I just knew. 

            My friends joined me at that time and he went back to the bar.  When we were ready to leave, he came after me and was asking me several questions about how I knew what was going on.  Since I had never experienced that before, I couldn’t answer him.  The words just came out of my mouth.  They ran through my head and I said them.  Now, I am used to the feeling, and I know when my spirit guides are going to talk to me, because I can feel them.  I am used to knowing things and sharing them with people around me.  But that day, I was as shocked as the man at the bar. 

Dream Premonition

                It seems that about half of what I see comes through in dreams.  I had a warning or premonition about my husband’s great-grandfather. 

            My great-grandfather in law was in his 90s.  He was still pretty spry for his age.  He was a tall, willowy man.  He and I were the outcasts during my husband’s family get togethers.  We would sit on the couch and he would tell stories about all the things he had seen, which was phenomenal.  He was born in the era of horse and buggy and through his lifetime saw people land on the moon.  He was alive during WWI, WWII, Korea and Vietnam.  He had so many stories, and they were amazing.  So I would sit on the couch and listen to him talk.  His false teeth did not fit well, so as he talked, they would click together. 

            I dreamt one night that I was at another family gathering.  My husband’s family was being particularly mean to me.  Then, the old man began to clutch his stomach and cried out.  We took him to the emergency room.  The dream played out as though I were actually experiencing all of this, full color, full sound. 

            The next morning my mother-in-law called.  Before I handed the phone over to my husband, I told her that she needed to tell her grandmother that Grandpa was going to be sick.  I told her that he would have something wrong with his stomach.  She was quiet for a minute, then told me that he had just been rushed to the hospital because of stomach pains and they were doing tests on his intestines and colon. 

My Grandpa, My Hero

             There is a smell I had always associated with my grandfather.  He always sat by the fireplace, he smoked camel cigarettes, and he was outside as much as he could possibly be.  It is a comforting smell.  I have smelled him several times since he has been dead.  Every time, it seems as though I have been protected from something.

            This one particular day, I was driving a state car to talk to a guy about some taxes.  I was talking to my mom on the phone as I drove.  A truck was in front of me with a load of firewood that went up to the cab of the truck.  As we exited off the ramp, a piece of wood flew out of the truck.  The wood came straight at the car.  It was about an inch away from the driver’s side windshield, coming straight at my face.  At the last minute, the piece of wood turned and it went up, over the top of the car.  It never touched the car.  Then, I smelled Grandpa.

            As the wood came at the windshield, I said “Oh &^%$.”  My mother said those would have been awful last words.  I told her that Grandpa saved my life. 

            Another time Grandpa saved me was when I was driving to work.  I had to make a left turn onto 95^th Street and Lackman Road in Lenexa, Kansas.  The light turned green.  I waited a second, and then started to make the turn.  My car suddenly quit.  Two seconds later a huge truck ran the light.  He would have T-boned me on the driver’s side.  I smelled Grandpa.  My car started right up, and I have never had another problem with my car dying. 

            Perhaps I should just let him drive from now on.