In Loving Memory

of

My Sister

Christine

(1952-1970)

 
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about my sister who has inspired me from the spirit world. And, who has taught me everything I know about communicating with dead people.

(Visitations & Conversations, 2019)

It wasn't long after leaving Highgrove House and moving into our new home that Christine and her fiancé died in a fatal car crash. New Year’s Eve, 1970. My sister, just eighteen years old, had become engaged to her boyfriend, Colin. I was happy, we were all happy, especially since my parents had gone through a nasty separation and awaiting a divorce.

Since everyone in our house was going out to celebrate and welcome in the New Year, Mum had arranged for a neighbour to pop in and keep an eye on me and my twin brother. We would be okay staying in to watch the telly. No one knew how it would turn into a night we would never forget. No one except me, that is.

Standing in the living room, I was startled when I heard a voice that seemed to come from next to me, yet no one was there. The voice said, “Say goodbye to your sister she’s not coming back.” I ignored the voice believing it to be my imagination. The voice repeated the words again, “Say goodbye to your sister, you won’t see her again.” Something wasn’t right, mostly because I felt uneasy. I felt uncomfortable. The voice that spoke to me was not a whisper, neither was it distorted in sound. It was as clear as a whistle.

I hated the voices and wanted nothing more to do with them after my sister and her fiancé had died. The car they were travelling in with friends had skidded on black ice, rolled over and hit a tree, killing them both instantly. Besides the weather, the driver of the car was also drunk. New Year’s Eve would never be the same again, ever. The voices went away, temporarily.

I blamed myself for that ghostly voice, I thought it was me thinking horrible thoughts, when it wasn’t. The thoughts and the voices were not of my making, and I never told anyone about the voices or what I heard. I didn't say anything because I was scared. I was scared I would be blamed for the tragedy and what happened. The voices seemed to go away for a while.

After losing Christine, Mum’s heart remained broken. Yet, she carried on when she could easily have given up. Mum was a beacon of her own light, who as a single parent cared for and looked after her five kids. To live through times like we had does give you an extraordinary sense of determination to make life count, no matter how much or how little you have. We really didn’t have much, but the amount of love our Mum had for her kids and family was everything.

FOREVER LOVED, FOREVER GRATEFUL, FOREVER MY SISTER

LOVE … truly is everything in Heaven and on Earth - be part of that LOVE vibration and spread it around like a disease everyone wants xxx