Read an ExcerptNo Les Digas Adios
By Allison DuBois Fireside Books
Copyright © 2005 Allison DuBois
All right reserved.
For those of you familiar with the hit television series Medium you probably already know that it's based on my real experiences. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, I encourage you to tune in and explore life after death. Don't Kiss Them Good-bye elaborates on my life minus the great television writers. It is my way of sharing with you how I'm affected by being a medium. Perhaps you are intrigued by my being able to see and feel events that not all people can. Perhaps learning about mediums will raise questions for you about your own life. Maybe you're one of many who knows your loved ones are still around and you want to strengthen your connections with them. I invite you to join me on this adventure through my life so that you can better understand how the events in my life have shaped who I am. I will give you a glimpse of what life can be after death. I also will talk to you about how to stay connected to those who matter to you most. May this book inspire you as so many have inspired me.
In this book, I share my own childhood experiences in order to connect and relate to young mediums who have questions and doubts about their gifts. I hope that my experiences can help show how a child with the gift might feel or view things. I also hope it illustrates how we, aspeople who love the gifted young, can help them to understand and embrace their abilities. Figuring out our gifts in life is part of our journey to becoming enlightened human beings. I want the people reading my book to have real insight into the life of a person with special abilities. I want you to better understand where psychics and mediums come from and what kinds of potential we have. Being able to relate to or think about the unknown is half the battle of expanding your spiritual beliefs. Having the opportunity to experience it personally is the other half.
I am a medium and profiler. This means I can predict future events, I can get into a person's mind, I can detect health problems in people, and I can communicate with the dead. Yes, I see dead people.
I have often wished that someone would come up with a better word than "psychic" to describe people like me. Between all the con artists out there and the gypsy and witch stereotypes, the word has been forever tainted. Call it what you want; I have what I refer to as the gift.
I was brought into this world in the usual way on January 24, 1972, in Phoenix, Arizona. I'm old enough to have learned my craft and young enough to challenge it. I have one older brother, Michael, who teased me often. My parents divorced when I was a baby, but I grew up knowing they both loved me.
Even when I was little I knew that I wasn't a typical kid. Besides my encounter with my great-grandpa after his funeral (which I discuss in the chapter "A Little Girl Meets the Other Side"), there were many other significant signs of things to come.
I identified with characters who had special gifts. Whether it was Tabitha on Bewitched or Tia in Escape to Witch Mountain, I knew they were different, like me. I was sure they could relate to my feelings of being an oddity, misunderstood by adults. As I was careful about what information I shared with people, I understood why the characters on TV or in the movies hid their abilities.
My identification with these characters went beyond a child's imagination and the desire to be Wonder Woman or Superman. When I was around ten years old, I was told repeatedly (by those I have come to know as my guides) that I was unique. They told me that when I was older I would affect people in a profound way. It was hard then for me to imagine that I could do something that important someday.
I received visits from my guides on and off throughout my childhood and teenage years. I wasn't sure who those voices were, but I knew the source was good and that it was coming from upstairs. I could feel the energy of the visitor and, although I was not frightened, I was more afraid that I would not be able to live up to their expectations of me.
I couldn't help but think Why me? I look average, and my parents are divorced. I found church boring. My mom made me go with her every Sunday and I resented it. I preferred to talk to heaven personally when I was alone. I felt very connected to a higher power and I was sensitive to others' feelings about it. But it seemed that all the adults at church sang about one thing and then practiced another. It didn't make sense to me, but if I mentioned this I was scolded.
I filled my room with stuffed animals and dolls, but mine served a defensive purpose. I lined them up on shelves, on the floor, everywhere, positioned to fill space and form a barrier between me and the unknown. Since I could feel many variations of energy around me and sometimes I saw apparitions, my stuffed animals filled the physical void where I knew the energy existed. The toys also helped calm my nerves. I had created in my mind an explanation for the energy I felt. I was no longer looking at empty space and feeling as though an unknown energy occupied it. My toys now filled the space. Children, like adults, learn to deal with complicated circumstances in a way that creates comfort for them.
I spent my youth trying to convince myself that I was normal. I was a competitive roller skater for several years in the early eighties. Journey, REO Speedwagon, and The Go-Go's provided the background music for my childhood. The people at the rink were also quite memorable, with their big perms, leg warmers, and lights on their skate wheels. I sat for hours watching people skate around faster and faster, until they began to blur into circles of light. I watched them intently, as if I were looking for something inside each person to become visible.
I enjoyed the all-or-nothing stakes of winning competitions. Figures, dance, freestyle skating-I did them all. I especially loved those rare occasions when the boys and girls were allowed to compete against one another. I enjoyed beating the boys the most.
Skating also provided an escape from the conflict at home between my mom and stepdad. When I was twelve, my mom and the man that I had called dad for ten years dissolved their marriage. I saw him with his new family a year later. He didn't see me and I never saw him again.
My mom remarried a year or two later, and I didn't fit into the new arrangement. I was on my own just one month before my sixteenth birthday. I lived in an apartment with a high school friend named Domini. I remember kicking back with a beer and thinking how ludicrous it was that I had once told my sixth grade teacher that I aspired to go to Harvard. Ridiculous! I thought. At this rate I wouldn't even be going to a community college!
My teenage years were painful and lonely. People were all around me, but I felt as alone as anyone could be. I also felt as if I sometimes attracted people who had bad energy. I always worry about young people who stand out in crowds because they have an inner light that shines through. I heard this often as a young person and now I understand it. Dark entities are naturally attracted to light and will try to manipulate it. A dark entity can see a light entity from a mile away. Unfortunately, it's typically harder for light entities to spot dark ones, but with experience they can learn to recognize and avoid them.
Have you ever looked at a recent picture of someone close to you and compared it to one from the past? There is a light that flickers in a young person's eyes that is often extinguished as he ages. The trick is to make sure your light remains strong and bright. It's a reflection of your soul. Never let it be extinguished. I have met seventy-year-old men and women who have the essence of people in their early twenties. I am determined to always retain my mischievous inner youth.
The night I met my husband he swears there was a light shining down on me. Joe says he couldn't resist knowing what I was about. I thought he was just an irritating guy with a pickup line. Joe has helped to make me a better person. He has taught me many lessons that I wouldn't have held still long enough to hear from anyone else. The most important thing he taught me is that there are people who are true to their word, people who will always be there. He has taught me to trust.
Another lesson Joe taught me was math and that it wasn't too late to apply it to my dream of going to college. Against all the odds I did graduate from college. I received a B.A. in political science with a minor in history from Arizona State University. Even though I had grown up around all kinds of people who were going nowhere fast, a part of me had always known that somehow, some way, I would earn a college degree. I guess I am just one of those lucky people for whom things always work out. I see myself as being constantly pushed back onto the right path by a force greater than me. I am thankful.
While sitting in class at ASU, feeling sorry for myself, I met a girl in a wheelchair. She was blind and had a Seeing Eye dog, but I never heard her complain, not once! I got over feeling sorry for myself really quickly. Life is a series of learning important lessons. You have to pay attention in class. Thinking of her helps me remember there's always someone who has it harder than I do.
Overall, my twenties were rich and exciting. I made mistakes, met Joe, graduated from college, experienced motherhood, interned at the homicide bureau, produced a safety video, and prepared myself to start over again with a new story. I don't know how I ended up with such a colorful, remarkable life, but I am thankful for all I have done and all that I have.
Now that you know my background and what I do, I encourage you to use the rest of my book to think about your own experiences.
Please remember that mediums serve people both living and dead. We bridge the gap. If you have ever questioned whether there is an afterlife, I hope this book will help you to see that indeed there is a whole world on the other side.
Excerpted from No Les Digas Adios by Allison DuBois Copyright © 2005 by Allison DuBois. Excerpted by permission.
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