Married to a Medium
On most occasions, it is Ian who sees the dead, and not me. I've had many experiences throughout my life when I have seen paranormal phenomena with my own eyes, whether they be shadows, entities or physical environmental manipulation from spirits. But this time, what I was seeing was completely solid and as real as any human being would be to you or me.
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On this particular evening, as I was pulling up to a local Greek restaurant for a delivery pickup, Ian commented on a sweet old couple sitting at a cafe table outside of the store...
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I didn't want to see what my husband was witnessing, and it's times like this I am glad to not have his abilities. He was describing in detail the lost souls meandering about us as I exited the lot: literally hundreds of dead, trapped in the throes of addiction and despair, some slumped over, while others staggered like zombies in a horror film...
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During a rainy, winter evening while I was inside a store picking up an order of pizzas for delivery, I received a disturbing text from Ian, who was waiting in the vehicle parked just outside. "There's something outside the car. I'm scared."
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In the mid-1990's, my first husband and I used to spend Christmas and New Years vacationing in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. We would rent a beachfront condo in the old-town section of the city for a couple weeks, and enjoy a luxurious relaxation lifestyle...
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The night before Halloween (All Hallows' Eve), Ian joined me driving on my delivery route. It was a brisk, fall evening; the air was clear, and trees burst with color. Golden leaves floated on he gentle breeze like sparse confetti, then tumbled along the road near the gutter with the rush of passing cars. We were having a fun night—orders were good, and we were enjoying each other's company.
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One of the most difficult issues to deal with is when evil targets a child, and more so, a child with developmental disabilities. In this instance, there is a demonic entity attached to a teenager in our neighborhood.
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GRAPHIC CONTENT WARNING. The cry was urgent, and I knew something bad was happening. Ian was in the bedroom studying for his veterinary technician license exam, and I was in my studio across the hall working on a video project. The sound of his shout sent me into emergency mode, and I ran to his aid within seconds.
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We stopped at a traffic signal near the tribal cemetery gates, and Ian focused his attention on something in the foliage around the massive, stone walls. "What the hell is that?" he said out loud, halfway to himself, and partially to me. He had a puzzled and unsettled look on his face. When I inquired as to what he was talking about, he replied, "I don't know. There's something weird there by the wall—I have no idea what it is..."
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When my husband, Jeep, passed away from congestive heart failure in August of 2017, I did not know a local priest in our home town in Texas who would come to the home to do a posthumous last rites ritual, as Jeep was Catholic and I knew this would be important for his spirit's journey. It wasn't until my move to Washington state, and a new marriage to Ian, that I would be given a chance to perform this blessing. During that time, beginning in January of 2022, Jeep began to visit us regularly, and developed a deep friendship with my new husband.
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