Last weekend, my friend Amanda and I went to the FenCon Conference in Addison. I won't bore you with the crap the hotel's accounting office put me through, except to say: if you ever stay at the Crown Plaza in Addison, Texas, check your bill closely, both before you check out and even afterwards on line asap. Their accounting department is totally inept. I don't do billing shocks well in the mornings while I'm still injecting coffee, and this one lasted several days, and still cost me extra.
The ghosts and spirits who demanded my attention during the conference were in good company with the creative, outgoing fen- and filk-folk attending. There were sci-fi and fantasy and paranormal authors, bands, publishers, and just plain fun-folk. I imagine the entities could easily feed off the abounding high energy levels. Amanda and I cornered … uh … politely asked a man to take our picture, but this was the day after I looked like a pumpkin for my book signing/selling table:
My friends Floyd and Sarah Brigdon were in charge of the children's room this year, but they got out once in a while. This is Sarah with an entourage of some of her charges:
But back to my blog subjects: ghosts and spirits. This time, I'm fairly certain that at least two of the entities I encountered were spirits. There was a dealer's room where lots of books were for sale, but also some amazing displays of photos and other unique items. My favorite, where I spent far too much money, was a display by That Pagan Chick. She gave me a discount of 10% because I had my voter's registration card with me, and that helped a little. I also enjoyed chatting with her a bit.
While we were talking about something, I got distracted. Probably the reason I've forgotten what we were discussing is because the distraction was a spirit. His energy indicated he was standing on my right, and I kept glancing in that direction. However, he didn't visualize, and with all the traffic past her display, I didn't think it would be a good idea to go off into one of my tiny trances to see him. With what she sold, I knew she would understand when I finally asked: "Is there someone close to you who's in spirit and might want you to know he's still around?"
"My brother," she answered immediately. "Is he here?"
"Yes," I replied. "He just wants you to know."
She nodded. "He comes around frequently. Thank you."
I finished my purchases, one of which was a great t-shirt for my husband, Barney. He's still a bit leery of the paranormal. Well, leery is good for all of us at times. Across the front, the shirt says: It's … behind me, isn't it? I love it! And he even wore it to his doctor's appointment.
There were some passing "feelings" of energy a few times, at least two of which I sensed were ghosts hanging around the hotel. However, I didn't stop and focuse on any. I experience that often and would never get anything done if I paused to communicate with every ghost or spirit I encountered. Then my friend, Carl, showed up. He's a member of our writer's group, and he and his wife, Judie, own the farm where Angela and I banished the demon. Carl and I greeted each other, then left the sign-in desk looking for Amanda.
I'd instantly realized someone was tagging along with Carl. He's in the midst of a somewhat stressful period, and the person with him was a spirit, not a ghost. I'd felt spirits out at his home, also, more than once. No ghosts hang around there now; they all crossed over on the same day we banished that nasty demon.
The three of us attended a workshop, which we enjoyed. Yet this spirit kept nudging me to pay attention to her. I'd at least recognized her gender. I was interested in the authors who were reading selections from their work and the comedy actions going along with them, and I tried to ignore the lady.
We split up, and Carl and I headed off to listen to the keynote speaker while Amanda went for a swim. We sat near the back of the room, which I do sometimes when I'm not sure I'm going to stay for an entire hour of something. This spirit lady grew totally insistent that I tell Carl she was with him. Her energy surged stronger and stronger. I think she was feeding off Carl's stress; however, she really did want to contact him. Eventually, she grew downright pushy and demanding. I gave her the courtesy of tuning in to try to determine her name, but she wasn't very polite on her end.
When I discovered who she was from Carl a few minutes later, I could partially understand her actions. She was elderly and perhaps had the same attitude I do at times. Although I wouldn't exactly call myself elderly, I am of the opinion that I've lived long enough not to tolerate boredom or rudeness. And, frankly, the speaker was not engaging my interest at all. I was getting ready to sneak out of the room. Maybe the woman knew that and wanted my attention first.
I didn't want to cause a disturbance by speaking to Carl and bothering the other attendees. Some of them looked like they were actually listening, and I kept mentally pushing her away as I built up my courage to exit. She was more insistent than me! Finally, I wrote a note to Carl and nudged him to read it.
Do you know a Marsha or Martha or Mary? I wrote. Someone with an "M" name? I knew he would understand, since he'd been around my paranormal gifts often.
He looked at me and frowned. Then leaned over and said, "What?" pointing at the paper.
O.K. I know my handwriting is pretty bad, so I whispered what I'd written in his ear.
At first, he shook his head negatively. Then his expression lit up and he nodded a yes.
"My grandmother was named Mary," he murmured back to me.
Yes! the spirit told me. Tell him I'm here with him.
"She's here with you. I'll tell you about it in a while. Right now, I … uh … oh, I need to go to the bathroom."
Since he was on the outside seat, he turned his knees aside and let me pass. After the workshop broke up, we chatted a little more about Mary.
"She and I were very close," Carl said. "Is she really here?"
"That's what she said," I replied. "I think she's here to support you right now."
"How wonderful of her," he said.
It's nice when my gift allows me to make someone else feel good.
I'm working on a new story. I've titled it Dragon's Dishonor. It's a short story; well, as short as I can write. My sister once complained about the long emails I wrote to her. My niece said, "But, Mommy, what do you expect? She writes books!"
My Facebook page has the new cover I'll be using for this story, another one of Angela's masterpieces. http://www.facebook.com/tranam.simmons I hope to get it up next week … if I get my butt back to work and finish it. So I better go.
Halloween is coming! It will be here before we know it. Yippee!
Boo!
T. M.
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