Allison DuBois - Don't Kiss Them Good-bye

I never know quite what to expect at a group session. Sometimes the participants have so much in common that we realize that there is a running group theme. On the flip side, occasionally I will meet a participant who isn’t sure about being there but has committed to at least observing the group. Without fail, the observer is pulled in when a visitor from the other side insists on sending a message.

One story that comes to mind is that of George, a handsome, well-manicured man with silver in his hair. As I shook his hand, George smiled and said, “I have to tell you, I am a skeptic.”

“That’s all right,” I said. “Everyone should approach this experience with open eyes. Don’t force the information to fit.”

He assured me that he would not. It didn’t take long for George’s visitor from the other side to make himself known. I told George that his grandfather was coming through and he asked which one.

“Your grandfather is showing me New York City, so he was either from New York or it was significant to him,” I said.

George thought for a moment and then said, “I don’t think so.”

I repeated my advice about not forcing anything.

“Oh wait, my grandfather came to this country through Ellis Island.”

I described his grandfather and mentioned his grandfather’s fondness for suspenders. The suspenders were significant to George and he was pleased. I gave him more information about his family and elaborated on his grandfather before finishing his reading.

“Everything you said was right on except the part about my grandfather playing checkers; he didn’t play checkers,” he said.

I explained that I give what I get and that maybe it would make sense to him later. Two weeks later I received a call from George’s fiancée, who had accompanied George to the group session. She said that they were out shopping and came upon a store window with a display that included a checkerboard.

She saw George staring at the checkerboard and asked where his mind had wandered. George turned to her and said, “My grandfather use to take me to the park when I was a little boy and he’d give me fifteen cents to get lost so that he could play checkers.”

George was stunned to realize that he had long forgotten this part of his youth. Both the reading and the checkerboard in the store had triggered his memory recall. I have no doubt that George’s grandfather played a part in helping him to put together the pieces. His grandfather succeeded in convincing George that he was, is, and always will be with him. George later sent me a lovely card that said, “I believe.” Thank you, George. It means more than you know.

Sometimes people like to make my group sessions a family outing. A striking young woman named Barbara showed up with her sister, Jen, and their aunt for a group session. During that session I was distracted by Barbara’s grandfather (who was deceased), who insisted on my conveying images to his girls. I told Barbara and her family that her grandfather was talking about bedtime stories:

“He says he would read you fairy tales and he’s showing me a castle on a hill with a winding road leading up to the castle.”

You could have knocked all three of them over with a feather. Barbara shared that on the way over she had been thinking about her grandpa and how he’d read her bedtime stories when she was little. She had told her aunt, who was in the car with her, that she wanted Grandpa to come through and talk about the bedtime stories that he use to read to her and Jen when they were little. She and her aunt fondly reminisced and agreed that the bedtime stories would convince them that Grandpa was around them.

Barbara’s sister Jen, who had driven her car separately, was the skeptic of the bunch, but her jaw dropped as well. She said that on the way over she had told her grandpa that if he was there with her he should tell Allison about the fairy tales he used to read to her when she was little. She specifically requested “Cinderella.” Jen was thrilled and knew that her grandpa was there for her that day with his book in hand. All three women had the same sweet connection with Grandpa, and they all knew he was listening to them on the way to the group session.

Like most people, I have a social life. On the weekends, I often find that business and pleasure blend. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and some of my girlfriends and I indulged by eating lunch out for a change. We later stopped by Champions for a cocktail. I only get to do this once in a great while, so I was ready to listen to the jukebox and unwind. My best friend, Stacey, had been chatting with the lady bartender when suddenly she came flying back to our table.

“Allison! This poor girl, you have to talk to her. She really needs your input.”

I was pretty relaxed, so I said, “Sure, tell her to come over. I’ll talk to her.”

Our bartender approached me. “Hi! I’m Kim. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

I assured her that everything was fine. We briefly talked about a health concern of hers. Then Kim said, “I really wonder about a friend of mine who died. I hope she’s with me.”

With great confidence I said, “Oh, she’s with you. She’s showing me an Easter lily. So she’s making a reference to April. Did she die in April? Was her birthday in April?”

(Here’s an example of how crucial it is for me to illustrate what I am being shown by the other side. This advice is important for people with psychic instincts to remember: Describe everything you’re seeing; it will help you to read your sitter better. The information that we get isn’t always what we think it is. Sometimes the sitter is helpful in the “charades game” with the afterlife. We are only messengers; sometimes we need clarity from the person sitting in front of us.)

“My mother’s name is April,” Kim replied. Her friend hadn’t been referring to the month of April, but rather was giving me the name April. I then turned to Kim and said, “Your friend is now making reference to May by spelling M-A-Y.”

Kim laughed and said, “May is my middle name. I was named after my godmother.” Those were the only names and/or months that I gave her. We talked for another few minutes, and then she went back to work with a new sense of peace.

On one occasion I had the opportunity to sit down with a fantastic married couple, Carol and Randy, for an informal reading when my husband and I were out to dinner with them. My favorite skeptic, Randy, looked at me and said, “What’s my lucky number?”

I shot back with six.

“She’s right; it’s six! I played a game and won with the lucky number six. It’s been my lucky number ever since.”

We all laughed and they joked about taking me to Las Vegas.

Then Carol asked, “Hey, Allison! When my friend falls in love, what’s the name of the woman he will fall for?”

“Ann.”

Her jaw dropped and she shared that they had just set Randy’s friend up with a coworker of hers. Her name? Anna.

Later I was told that the newly introduced couple in question had a very passionate first date. Good for them! After that, Randy always had a question for me, but he no longer questioned my abilities.

Randy died suddenly in November 2002, the victim of a massive heart attack. I now get to hear from my favorite skeptic from the other side.

I love to give people signs to look for from the deceased so they will know their loved ones are present. I understand the importance of this because most people cannot see spirits. It’s good personal verification. I did a reading for the widow of a pilot who died in a plane crash. She referred her sister-in-law to me for a reading weeks later. Two very special things happened during that reading. One occurred when Chris, the sister of the deceased pilot, asked me if I could tell her about the question he asked her during their last conversation.