I Love Dead People - Part 2

If you have come here after reading Part One, I am venturing a guess, that you may be the type who believes in magic, spirit messages, and love that lasts forever! Welcome, welcome, whoever you may be, for if you do not yet believe, maybe this will help you see...or not. No matter. If there are spirits and you don't believe in them, they will still believe in you.

I do believe that "everything happens for a reason." Sometimes - more often than not, I just don't know what the hell the reason is. Some things happen that make us feel so good we don't care what the reason may be. Sadly, those things, we tend to forget while holding on to the painful stuff. I guess it's a process. Maybe the best we can hope for is to keep learning and growing. And that's not a bad thing.

I imagine that there is someone or "many someones" watching over us. It just feels better to me, to have that faith. It doesn't feel good to try to convince anyone else of this. I believe everyone should be free to think, feel and do as they please. If everyone would think, feel, and do as they please while having empathy for others, the world would be a better place.

In Part One I included descriptions of a guided meditation I attended one Autumn evening in 2007. There were probably about twenty other people in the room. We brought our own blankets to sit or recline on, and settled in to tune into our higher selves.

I don't remember having any preconceived notions of focusing on any certain thing, or tuning into any certain spirit. My grandmother had always been with me, it seemed, so it was natural that my thoughts turned to her as the meditation got going. I was a little nervous, being in a room with strangers, except for my husband and the guide. It took a few minutes for me to relax.

What surprised me was seeing an image of a huge, rather transparent angel, standing like a protector near the door of the room. Our guide, when I mentioned this presence to her, guessed that it was her guardian angel, and identified him with a name that was familiar to her. I had heard a different name emanating from the ice-sculpture-like huge angel by the door. I politely disagreed with her, telling her that this one said his name was "Michael." My vision that evening, and connected events (having to do with contacting my grandmother's spirit) can be found in Part One. I bring in the reference to the angel sighting again here, because it is significant in another way. The following event, seemingly nonsensical at the time, has profoundly changed my life.

Also in the fall of 2007, after the guided meditation, I had the sweetest dream. It was one of those: wake-up-the-next-morning-feeling-you'd-actually-been-somewhere-else-the-night-before dreams! I should have made a pie of the same name to celebrate it! Have you seen the movie "Waitress" with Keri Russell? In the movie, her character named pies to describe her life experiences. I just looked it up to make sure I had spelled her name correctly, and found that the movie came out in 2007, so I am on track with this vibe.

The dream itself was very intense. I didn't understand it at all at the time. Someone was asking me to help him. He was a celebrity, at that. I was very engaged in the moment as the dream was happening. He was such a kind, sweet man. His children were in the house with him. The fame part of him fell away entirely, in the dream. When I look back, I can't help but think that this was a representation of how he truly was - without the media machine in hyper-drive attack mode that so often painted a cruel and distorted picture of his character. As unresolved childhood insecurities drove him to constantly change his face, I imagine (had there been such a thing) the coordinating "Picture of Dorian Gray" for Michael would have grown more and more attractive. His unmatched Guinness Book of World Records generosity and his loving intentions to Heal The World would have reflected a beauty unparalleled. But how many people can see into the heart of a man?

When I first awoke from the lovely nighttime vision, I felt a profound affection for Michael and his children. His daughter had also spoken to me in the dream.

But during the next couple of days, the feelings began to wear off. I remember saying to myself, and the dream persona, "No! You're too strange. I feel kind of - scared of you." As days, weeks and months went by, I almost forgot about it entirely.

Then came June 25, 2009. My daughter, who had adored Michael Jackson since she was 2 years old, was now 18. She had kept her admiration for him tucked deep inside, so as not to bring ridicule of him, from her classmates or teachers. This day, she could not have cared less what any of them thought. After the initial shock of his death that painful afternoon, she silently announced the end of her concern for what her school friends would say or think, as she brought Michael's portrait from the basement. The look on her face as she climbed the stairs with the heavy framed portrait in her arms, brought tears to my eyes. In her eyes I saw a fierce determination. I knew that no one would ever dare to pressure her to take his portrait down again. She hadn't believed the media spewings about him. She had simply wanted to end the snide comments when people visiting her room saw his portrait. That's the only reason she'd taken it down. She'd never gone through face after face of Teen Idol crushes. It was always Michael that inspired her.

On June 13, 2005, I remember standing with her in her room as all ten verdicts were read out to be "not guilty." At that time I didn't fully understand her intense emotions surrounding this gentle man.

What I did understand, was that my daughter was involved in a deeper soul-to-soul type of experience than what I'd been through with my teen crushes on Shaun Cassidy and friends. Something much different was happening to her than merely thinking someone was cute and boppin' around to his songs. My daughter admired this man's message. It gave her courage and inspired her to be a stronger person.

The conscious awareness of Michael's spirit, and the stream of messages from him to me, began on July 7, 2009.

I know it's not just me. Over the past 3 years I have gotten to know several people who have had similar messages, or feelings of inspiration.

I've often told Michael's spirit that I wish he wouldn't have been famous at all - I wish I could have a communicative and powerful guide whose name no one else recognized. I'm not a celebrity hound or autograph seeker. I hate the tour buses that take people around to see stars homes. They are just people. I didn't really care that much about Michael Jackson, partly because I never was in great awe of any celebrities. I always had the sense that they were just people.

But I do sometimes regret not writing him a letter of encouragement or gratitude for all he had done for the world. His music is astounding - something I appreciate so much more now than when he was alive. Yet that is not what I wished I would have thanked him for.

I wish I'd thanked him for bringing to us such a gentle childlike spirit and powerful message of divine love. Some people may think I am crazy by association - I've received some derogatory comments on other websites. Of course the person, the man, the Michael Jackson lifetime - was not perfect. However I believe with all my heart that the intent to heal his world was absolutely pure.

It's actually not about any particular man at all. It's about the message. I don't need to defend the man, but to keep spreading the message of love and childlike faith. The message is the best defense of the man. The message lives forever.