I was fifteen the first time I went to see a psychic. I went mostly for chuckles and grins, to see someone try to scam me, up close and personal. I didn't know for sure what was going to happen. I knew I wasn't going to be impressed, but it would be fun to share the stupid stuff she told me after it was over.
My mother warned me not to be so sure. She had gone to visit Hattie back in the forties when my mother was a party girl. Hattie had told her that mom's boyfriend would stand her up Friday and she'd be mad and want to go out with someone else to punish him - but don't do it, because he'd show up Saturday and she'd see he had a good reason, that it really wasn't his fault.
As predicted, he stood her up on Friday and it took everything my mother had to hold herself back from going out with someone else just to spite him, but she was surprised Hattie had been right about him standing her up, so she stayed home. Come Saturday morning he didn't have to explain the details for her to know it wasn't his fault. As soon as he started getting out of the car she could see the cast on his leg as he dug around for the crutches. Come to find out, he'd been in a car wreck. Just as Hattie told her, she 'saw' he had a good reason.
That put a little bit of a doubt in my head, but hey, people make lucky guesses every day... so I was still a good 95% convinced this old woman was a fake because all psychics were fakes. I was only fifteen and I knew that. Everyone oughta know that, right?
Hattie was a little bent woman with her thin gray hair in a tight little bun and a face as cut with wrinkles as a dried out river bed. She lived in a tiny shotgun house, just three small rooms in a row with an outhouse in the back yard. We sat in her living-room where pictures of jesus, jfk, and her own family members covered the walls. We sat on ancient, threadbare furniture. She poured us each a cup of coffee with the grounds in it. She said to let it steep and settle for a minute. Had me drink mine while praying. I was an athiest at the time so just said in my head "yada, yada, yada, whatever, amen."
She took my cup and almost threw it upside down on the saucer. Then she picked it up and started examining it. She told me I had a trip at my door. Good guess. I was leaving that evening to go stay in another city for a few months.
She told me it wouldn't go well and I'd return early due to an argument with a man in my family. Lots of people don't get along with their older brother and mine was a total jerk, she was probably right there too. No wonder she convinced so many people. Clearly she was a good con artist because I hadn't told her I'd be staying with my oldest brother, the jackass of our family.
She told me my father would get a huge amount of money the government owed him. The government did owe him a lot of money. He was on disability, it should have been service connected disability, but the building the records had been stored in had burnt long before everything was kept in triplicate, and we'd been fighting to get what was rightfully his ever since. I wondered though if that didn't come up a lot for kids my age. Many of us had fathers that had been in the second world war.
As I was leaving she stopped me, "One more thing, be sure to have someone check underneath your car. There's something you must get changed under there before you go."
"But we don't have the money to fix something under the car before we go!"
"Yes you do, it's little and cheap, but it's important, because you'll have a wreck if you don't change it before you go."
Crazy ol' bat of a woman. I chalked the last up to senility.
When I got home I was all excited and ready to tell my sweetie about my experience, but James Daniel stopped me. "Honey, wait a minute, Western Auto closes in twenty minutes and I've got to hurry so I can get this part for the car before we go." A part for the car? What kind of part? "
"It's just a kotter key, a little dealie that goes under the car. It only costs about $2.50, but I've gotta go get it now cause if I don't we might wreck before we get there."
Whoaaa!!! Goose bump city! If there had been a flea anywhere on me, it woulda been goosebumps as far as it's little eyes could see. I rushed him out the door.
Everything in her reading came true except for the money. My father went to his grave many years later with the government still owing him.
So I guess you could say that Aunt Hattie showed me two things.
- psychic ability is by God, REAL
- even good psychics can make mistakes
Many years later and all of my experiences on either side of the table have re-inforced what I learned that day about psychic ability. A good half of the bad feedback written here at keen is written because some people bought into the definition of psychics written and still used by fakes "sees all, knows all." They're expecting perfection. I am not perfect. But I am good enough that I read my own cards every day. They were the deciding factor in the following decisions I've made that I can see around me right now:
- Mr. Minnihan (18 years ago [dachshund mix - greatest dog of my life])
- Keen - excellent location! (11 years ago)
- my pick-up (8 years ago [cards said I'd never wanna give it up] true!)
- my computer (1 year ago)
- my house and view (6 months ago)
- my new dental work (2 days ago)
The only thing on that list I regret is my new dental work, and that's okay because my cards said I wouldn't be that thrilled with it for the first two weeks. Which reminds me, if you hear a little bit of a sssss or if I make a little sound of pain like I just bit my tongue (again), please look over it, I will sound like my old self again soon.
Curious what I can sssee for you?
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