by Susan K Morrow | Dec 12, 2013 | Interesting Info, Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary
My late husband, Tim, and I, shortly after we fell in love in 1983.
It was PTSD. Except they didn’t call it that back then. They called it “postpartum depression.” With some other “postpartum” problems thrown in. In the 25+ years that have followed, I’ve learned to understand it better, but at the time, all I knew, all my family knew, was that I was very sick.
The baby was 13 months old, and I was feeling a little better. I had weaned myself off of anti-depressants (too soon) a few months earlier, and I had started to dream again and remember my dreams just a few weeks prior.
The return of my dreams was important. And an angel took advantage of my newly-reopened mind to bring me some Big Messages.
In my vision dream, which I now call “my angel dream”, I stepped into (from where?) something like a room, except the walls and the floor had no substance. They were white, sort of like clouds, but solid. They seemed to be made of a soft light that you could walk on. And there was no floating mist, just this soothing whiteness.
A feminine figure approached me from straight ahead. She had dark hair and seemed to be clothed in the same light-material of the walls and floor. She was kind and told me everything was going to be all right. Then, she asked if I would like to see a picture of my family. I eagerly nodded.
Hanging on this non-substance wall was a large, gilt-framed portrait. It featured a slightly-older version of me, sitting in a wingback chair and sporting a Gibson-girl hairdo. There were three daughters in the portrait with me. Maddie, the one who was a baby when I had this dream, appeared to be 9-12 years old. She was standing just behind my left shoulder. A second child appeared to be about 5-8 years old. She was blonde, like Maddie, and stood at my left knee. The third looked to be 4-7 years old, also blonde, and I thought she and the second child might be twins, or they were at least less than two years apart. She stood in front of me. All blonde, all looked alike, and they were clearly my daughters. My husband, Tim, was not in the portrait.
That’s most of what I remember about the dream. Back then, I didn’t know I was psychic, and I didn’t know how to “feel around psychically,” like I do now, asking questions of Source and receiving the answers in various ways.
What I remember most strongly was calling my best friend and saying, “Dude. I think I’m going to be a young widow.” I didn’t know how I knew–it wasn’t just that Tim wasn’t in the portrait. It was a feeling I had, a knowing. I just knew.
And somehow, I knew it would be when Maddie was seven years old. Why seven? Why was this based on HER age and not my husband’s–or mine? These are questions I still do not have answers to.
And what in the world would my husband die of at age 42? The first thought in my head (remember, I didn’t know then about the first thought being the answer) was that it would be a heart attack. But he was going to be only 42 years old! He was healthy! I didn’t think a heart attack was probable or even possible.
I decided, all logicky, that it had to be a car wreck. An image appeared in my mind of his car on the side of I-35 between Austin, where we lived, and San Antonio, where he did indeed die of a heart attack. At age 42, when Maddie was 7.
I had had premonitions before, many times. For example, I knew when I met Tim that I would marry him. But that seems like something a lot of people experience, doesn’t it?
And what about the three daughters? I only have two, as it turned out. Two who made it here alive–there was one in between that I miscarried, and that baby would have been born 11 months before the one who is now my younger daughter, almost like twins…
I know what you’re thinking. Did I tell him? No. I only told my best friend, no one else. For one thing, I didn’t want to believe it, and I didn’t want to “feed” the idea.
When Tim turned 40, I made him get a physical, although he was very rarely sick and felt good. The doctor said what you’d expect: Lose some weight, cut back on the stress, stop smoking, get some exercise. His cholesterol and blood pressure were kind of high.
I lived with this premonition for six years. When Maddie turned 7, I prayed for more time. And maybe I got it–it was six months after her birthday that Tim died. And we got to have some really good last months together, including a trip to Disney World for the family, a gift from Tim’s parents.
The day Tim died, he was packing up and leaving for San Antonio, where he was supposed to teach a class. I was starting to come down with a cold, so I went and kissed him and he just gave me a peck. “Is that all?” I asked, annoyed. “Well, I don’t want to catch whatever you’ve got,” Tim replied. Oh, okay, fair enough.
Standing on the driveway, holding our younger one, waving good-bye, and watching his car disappear down the street, a thought flashed across my mind. “That’s the last time I will see him alive.” I dismissed the thought as that of a worrying wife.
I don’t remember ever asking “WHY?” about Tim’s death. Plenty of grief, yes, oceans of tears, but no questioning. Because I knew it was his destiny–and mine and that of our family. I had been told in a most reassuring way, and I trusted that everything would be all right.
(See my video telling what happened right after Tim died and again after my grandmother died.)
by Susan K Morrow | Oct 28, 2013 | Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary
This is one of my favorite stories about my work as a medium. My client’s wife had passed away about a year before our session. During my PRM (pre-reading meditation), I heard the word “pansy”. I didn’t know if this was the flower or the name—or maybe it was even “Patsy”.
When my client arrived for his reading, I immediately told him about “pansy or Patsy”. He shook his head, obviously searching his brain for some meaning to this. I started focusing more on “pansy” and then I translated for him, “It’s the purple flower that looks like a face. You know? Those flowers? They look like they have a face?” Nothing.
By this time, I was seeing gardens full of pansies. “Purple flower with a face!” I repeated, insistently. Sorry, he said.
I decided I had to move on. I had several other images and words and messages from his wife and also from his grandparents. I was taken on a tour of his grandparents’ house and discovered that his grandmother was not a cook, a fact that I also had to drag out of the client. “Why is the kitchen full of dirty dishes?” I asked.
“Oh, no, the kitchen was always clean,” he protested.
“Then why is your grandmother showing me a sink full of dirty dishes?” I demanded.
“I don’t know. She wasn’t even in there—my grandfather did the cooking.” We were both baffled.
Finally, I asked, “Did he leave the dishes to her?”
“Oh.” We both realized that, to his grandmother, the kitchen was always full of dirty dishes that she had to clean up!
But back to the pansy. Toward the end of our two-hour reading, I asked again about the “purple flower with a face”. Suddenly, something started to dawn on my gentle client. He said, “A purple flower with a face? Well, there was something next to my wife’s bed, something her employer had sent over to the hospital. It was like a stuffed animal, but shaped like a flower. And it has a smiley face on it. And it’s purple…
“It hangs on the wall in my bedroom and when I see it every day, I think of my wife. It reminds me of her.”
God love him.
by Susan K Morrow | Oct 28, 2013 | Interesting Info, Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary
This happens to me all the time. It’s what I do—I’m a medium. So why this one got to me, I don’t really know. But I think the feeling was more “overflow”—joy and wonder—than one of tears or sorrow.
What happened was an everyday occurrence—for me anyway—a mini-reading at a Home Event. The client had about 15 minutes with me, during which time I gave her a lot of info from spirits on the Other Side. One of the images I received was from her son. He showed me a wreath and I thought “Christmas”, but he showed it to me on his head, so I added that maybe it was a laurel wreath? It made me think of St. Lucia. I gestured that this was worn on the head and asked if any of this meant anything. The client wasn’t sure.
Sometimes medium work is like that. I actually never miss, but the clients sometimes do! Really. We call it psychic amnesia, a phenomenon in which the client insists that he’s never heard of this item or symbol or event, only to remember moments or days later that yes, Grandpa did have a double-barrel shotgun over the back door. I have a bunch of stories about that.
But back to my bewreathed man. Several days later, I received a large envelope in the mail. The client had written me a lovely letter, explaining what happened as she reviewed the notes I had given her from her mini-reading. She saw that I had written “wreath – head” and suddenly she got it! She enclosed a copy of a photo of her son, one that is on her refrigerator and seen by her daily, and in it—ta da!—he’s wearing a Christmas wreath on his head.
The client’s story had a lot more to it, such as how the wreath happened to be placed there, and I was so glad to share in her experience. It’s part of what I love about my work, getting to know people and share in their lives.
As I sat there in my car, with the letter and picture in my lap, I started to cry. There weren’t a lot of tears, just some sobbing kind of breaths. I thanked the client’s son for coming through so clearly and in a way that was meaningful to his mother, for allowing me to do this for both of them. And I thanked God/Universe for my gifts.
Then the overflow stopped. It was a very good day.
Post-script: The client later passed away unexpectedly, and I immediately thought of her son and what I imagined would be their joyous reunion on the Other Side. This story and another about “Merrill” is also featured in my book Dead On: Spirited Stories from a Medium’s Diary.
by Susan K Morrow | Oct 28, 2013 | Interesting Info, Spooky Stuff, Tales from the Psychic's Diary, The Psychic Has Pspoken!, Your Life
Are you familiar with my Mystic Mail? It’s a way of channeling that I have to answer a question via email. You ask a question, and I call on your angels and guides to answer it. I usually think of it as “taking cosmic dictation”. (For more info on Mystic Mail, click here.)
A recent Mystic Mail was simply fascinating to both me and the client, and I just had to share. Client “D” is someone I’ve worked with for a year or two, but there was a surprise in here that I did not already know about her. It just goes to show you how mysteriously the Universe really does work!
“D” asked me to give her whatever information she needed at that moment–which, by the way, is a great way to do your Mystic Mail. It’s fine to ask about something specific, but often, my clients don’t know what to ask. What follows is our conversation via email:
My channeled message from her angels/guides to “D”:
Hi, “D”, we are feeling conversational, as you are, too. We feel that your conversations are running deep and long. These are good to have at this time. You are gaining so much personal insight from them. Continue them as long as they are available to you. Your opportunities for travel are excellent now. Many conversations come up during travel time. Yes, sometimes, conversations are with yourself–with us. This is excellent. As you move forward, we see you shifting and changing almost daily. Your time of changing is coming to an abrupt end soon, so be sure you have completed all the changes you want to make for a while. This has been very flexible and fluid for some time, for a while now. And now it’s going to settle in. We feel that you will be quite satisfied with all your changes and your settling down. Ahh… it feels good to be you. Relax and enjoy this time of your life. From now to 70 is much smoother sailing that it has been for 13 years. With much love.
*********
“D” responded:
Wow. Very timely, you have no idea. Now, before I say anything more, I want to know what you think of the number 13. Then I’ll tell you something.
*********
Me: I’m so glad! I can’t wait to hear about it.
I am not superstitious about 13. As it relates to you, it feels like a date to me, or date-related, like time or an anniversary of some sort.
In numerology, 13 is a 4, which is a hard work number. If you live in an address that is a 4, for example, you and all the inhabitants of the house will usually be working.
So now… tell me how this is meaningful!
*********
“D” again: It’s exactly what I wanted.
On [this upcoming date], I will come to the end of my 13th year of sobriety. I can’t remember telling you that I had to quit drinking, but it has been quite a ride. In my mind, the number 13 has had this significance. And I’m definitely ready to not struggle and enjoy life!!
What do you think about that??
In her next email, she added: The conversations could have to do with the constant listening to [www.Abraham-Hicks.com] in my commute . . . it could be possible trips to [another city] in the future . . . I just renewed my passport . . . and I’ve had lots of conversations with various business partners as we go through seismic changes.
I’m ready to make a complete shift in my work life. I’m managing a new company which will hopefully get me out of my financial mess and on to better things. I’m ready to ONLY do the things in the business that I enjoy or want to do.
*********
by Susan K Morrow | May 27, 2013 | Angel Cards, Channeled Messages, Health & Spirit, Interesting Info, Money & Spirit, Suzi-Q & A, Tales from the Psychic's Diary, The Psychic Has Pspoken!, Your Life
Some of my clients get their first psychic reading ever with me. Others have been to a psychic or two and still others have been to many. What happens in a psychic reading?
I don’t know what happens in that little house down on the freeway, the one with the red neon hand on the sign with a hand-painted note urging, “$25 special!”, but I know why my readings are like.
First, I’ll tell you what does not happen in a session with me. I will not tell you there is a curse on you. I will not give you bad news. I will not tell you that unless you do such-and-such, you will die or never meet your soulmate or any negative and untrue crap like that.
And I absolutely will not tell you that your late grandmother is mad at you because you gave her secret recipe to your cousin or that your dead grandpa wants you to go to medical school. Spirits of our late loved ones are not angry, and they seldom ask anything of us, unless it is to our benefit and it is utterly our choice.
You might think those sound silly, but some people are afraid of what they might get from a psychic. It’s probably because of charlatans, but that is a diatribe that can wait.
So what does happen if you get a reading from me, besides it taking place on the phone, and besides not getting upset about Grandpa?
Broadly stated, you will get exactly what you are supposed to get, information that will benefit you at that moment, and suggestions for helping you create a better life.
More specifically, I will answer your questions about anything that is on your mind. Want to know what to do about your job? We’ll cover that. Want to know what your husband is really thinking? I will tell you that. Usually, looking into your closest relationships and telling you about them is among my best gifts.
I’ll also tell you if loved ones come through from the Other Side. Sometimes, it’s just a hello; other times, there is detailed information. In one reading, the only person who came through was a classmate of the client’s, who had passed away over 30 years ago. Just a classmate. But he was someone she remembered well. (You’ll find fascinating stories about my communication with spirits in my book, Dead On: Spirited Stories from a Medium’s Diary.)
Then I like to scan your energy. Other practitioners might call this “reading your aura”. When I close my eyes and ask our guides, I see you, as a person, and there are colors and shapes in and around you. I explain these and draw them for you, and ask our guides what these mean. Then I can interpret information for you that you don’t even know to ask about. Things like, you’re trying to impress someone, and here’s how to do that better. Or you are using one ability or talent to try to boost another. And here’s what to do about that.
And finally, I throw a few oracle cards for you. These are simple cards with a few words on them. I use these to confirm what we’ve discussed and to be sure we didn’t miss anything.
With each card, I tell you the words on it and I might give you a “face-value” description. Then I tap the card and tell you if I get anything that is specific to you.
We wrap up, and I send you my hand-written, customized notes for your reference.
And that’s what happens in a reading with me. Get your very own private phone reading here. Any questions? You know where to find me!
by Susan K Morrow | May 27, 2013 | Health & Spirit, Interesting Info, Tales from the Psychic's Diary, Your Life
Do you get stressed out as each year draws to a close and the holidays are upon us?
Lots of people do and, with due respect to the men we love, it’s usually the women who bear the burden of holiday preparations.
Personally, I really enjoy decorating and cooking, planning meals and shopping for gifts for everyone I love. That doesn’t mean it isn’t stressful and exhausting. As a perfect example of the way that our spirits make sure we do what’s best for us, here’s a story from my Christmas Day a couple of years ago:
I did all the work, as usual. I’m a widow, so there isn’t even a lazy husband to gripe about; I just have to do it. And I do enjoy it, but a few days before Christmas, I stood looking at all the gifts I had shopped for and wrapped, gleaming under the tree that I had decorated, and I thought, “I really work hard at this. It’s worth it to give my children a good, pleasant Christmas, but it would be great to have some help.”
Be careful what you wish for. Cut to Christmas Day. And I don’t use the word “cut” loosely. I am in the kitchen, plenty of able-bodied family around, and I am doing everything, even refusing the others’ offers to help. “No, no, thank you, I can do it myself.”
I’m carving the turkey–a man’s job, if you’ll pardon my sexism for a moment–and the blades on the electric knife get stuck. I unplug the knife, remove the blades, and try to un-jam them. Oh, yes, I manage to make a very nasty, bloody cut on my index finger.
Should we go to the hospital? I’m sitting on the floor, because I’m a fainter and I tend to faint when I hurt my hands or feet. I have my head down, trying not to pass out completely, mumbling orders to rinse the blood out of the sink and to look at my finger and tell me whether I should go to the ER. Daddy says yes. Boyfriend says maybe, it’s up to me.
Later, my doctor-sister tells me over the phone that I should definitely go, I probably need stitches, and the joint could be jeopardized. I feel like the little kid in that movie–“You’ll shoot your eye out, kid!”
I opt out of the trip to the ER. But guess what… I can’t do it all anymore. I’m winged. I’m on the injured reserve list. I have to have help.
And you bet the whole family rallied and took care of stuff. I still directed, pointing with my bandaged finger, asking someone to put the potatoes on the table and someone else to fill the glasses. And someone finish carving the turkey!
And Christmas dinner was perfectly lovely. The throbbing notwithstanding.
My spirit knew that it wasn’t right for me or for anyone else if I did all the work. I was being selfish, in a way, keeping all the work to myself and then getting to play martyr. Mm-hm. Serves me right. But I got the message.
And how stressed-out do you get during the holidays? I’ll help with that! (12-10-10)
