Something I Can’t Explain: My Family Gift of ‘Feeling’.
I come from a line of women who can predict things before they happen.
My grandmother Connie, now deceased since 2014, would get weird feelings or have dreams about friends or family. The next day or week she’d receive a phone call or letter from someone with some surprising (or dreadful) news. This was long before emails, texts, and social media.
My mother had the same exact thing. She once was in the shower and (this was a long while after her husband, my dad whom she divorced, died) felt someone kiss her. She always chalked it up to my dad.
Another time, she’d gone into the kitchen and the temperature dropped temporarily (without the window being open or the AC being on) and a spare screw that was on the table began to roll, and she’d been standing far from it. She always thought these paranormal manifestations were from my dad.
Of course, it didn’t help that the Toronto country house we lived in at the time had been a place of sorrow too. It was where her neighbor (as well as law school classmate and friend) had been molested, with her older sister, by her stepmother’s brother for a few years as children. Eerily, I had chosen the very room where it took place.
She only told us this when she found out I had trouble sleeping and I told my mom I could feel something bad had happened in the room (and even the basement, a place I hated visiting).
This was way before I knew I was a highly sensitive person (and probably an empath). We as a group, being so drawn to hidden meanings and otherworldly concepts, are more tuned into things that others have a hard time fathoming.
My mother also had an eccentric way of choosing houses. She’d always choose a place based on the feeling she got from it. It was just her thing, something she couldn’t explain, but something she relied on to make a decision in purchasing each residence we settled in.
Fast forward to me, when my grandma died. It was January 2014, and on that day, I’d felt down for no reason, as though it was just a blue type of day. The next day, my mother told me my grandmother passed away peacefully of old age.
Then fast forward to December 2019. I’d been watching Jumanji, a quirky adventure movie that had lots of laughs, but deep down, I felt off. That same evening, I got a text from my mother, telling me she’d been diagnosed with endo cancer and was to get a hysterectomy within a month.
Fast forward to this year. I’ve gotten into tarot in the last few months, and one of the predictions I got early on were very eerie. They predicted that March and April would be months to look out for.
Oddly, mid-March I got another text out of the blue from my mom, telling me she was at the hospital with symptoms of bowel cancer (something that often happens after a hysterectomy). She gets surgery for that soon. I can only imagine the chain of events that will unfold afterwards on that day.
There are times when I do wonder, if I have a daughter in the future, will she have this gift? It is a gift that has to be honed and practiced, because it uses intuition and not logic. It’s too easy to blur the line between what we want to happen and what’s, intuitively, inevitable.