The first memories of actually receiving messages from the dead happened approximately a week after losing my brother Georgie. Unbeknownst to me, I was having dreams, or so I thought they were, of dead relatives of my parents who died years prior to my brother’s death. They would be what is referred to as “visitations. These visits occur during your sleep, usually they’re messages of love and recognition or serve as dire warnings from the deceased.
At that time, I had no clue who was coming to me. But in later years, my mom, my aunt or my nonna validated who these people were. As a child, they all totally understood what was happening to me since my nonna and her two sisters were either healers or mediums. What I do remember, was my mom crying but also feeling relief upon hearing who my brother was with in these dreams. The dreams presented vital information, etc. to validate their identities.
When I was about 11 years old, I started to experience strong premonitions. I had been a school-phobic after my brother’s passing. I attended a Catholic grammar school and would either play sick in the morning or wait until I was in class to be sent to the nurse and then sent back home. My sister and mom just about had it with me and my antics. I would read the Cheerios box at the breakfast table and insist that I had to finish before I could proceed to get dressed for school. I was my poor big sister’s worst nightmare since she had to walk me to school. She was really into school and her friends and a walk that should haven taken 20 minutes took an hour or so.
So, I woke up one bright morning truly petrified that I shouldn’t go into school since I was sure the building was going to go up in flames killing me, other children and nuns. I was literally sobbing as they brought me there unwillingly. The next morning the feeling was much more intense and I was close to hysteria in fact I was so sick over it that I was later sent home from school. After school, my sister, my parents and I were at the kitchen table with the radio on when they interrupted the song with a news flash. “A catholic parochial school in Chicago had “gone up in flames” killing 92 children and 3 nuns. It was Our Lady of the Angels grammar school in 1958 just prior to Christmas. When I tell you, no one at the table muttered one word. I felt utter fear and disbelief at the time as to how I could have known this would happen. I was only 11 years old.