Anthony’s Message (Part 3)
This is the continuing story of Anthony’s Message. If you missed it, here is Part 1 and Part 2.
“Whaatt?” I say in my head.
But I feel it’s true. I’ve never felt so sure of winning something in my life. I know I’m going to win this raffle. I feel the nudge.
I call over to my Hubbie who’s talking with another Dad, “Hon, can you go buy another set of tickets, please?” He waves at me from across the room.
I’m now talking to my close friend Eve. She’s insightful, very intuitive. She’s a sister from another life. She’s already heard about the crash. Her husband’s friend’s son is a friend of Anthony. The young man is devastated by this news. We’re all shaken. It’s a parent’s worst dream come true. And it’s unthinkable for a teenager to lose a friend.
I tell Eve about the Soul System, that Anthony is an old soul. Dad says he’s a 5. That he didn’t have to come back. That he came back for a reason – to activate the souls here. She nods. She has already gotten the message on FaceBook that Anthony’s accident has touched hundreds. And it only happened 36 hours ago. Hard to believe.
Eve says, “I bet Matilda is a 5 too. ”
I haven’t told Eve about what’s been going on in the house.
About Matilda waking up the night of the crash. That Anthony seems to be visiting us and hanging out with Matilda. I’m not sure, after all. It seems too much to hope for. I need more proof.
One hour later, the raffle organizer is yelling, “Last call for tickets! Last call for tickets!” It pops into my head that my man hasn’t bought those tickets. I grab his arm, “Hon, did you buy those tickets?” Without a word, he rushes over and buys another set of five tickets before the raffle sales closes.
Matilda’s little friend walks up to the big jar stuffed with tickets to pull the winner. I whisper in my husband’s ear. “We’re going to win this. Get your tickets out!”
The organizer calls, “The Winner is…… !” She calls out the number.
My husband looks down at his two sets of tickets.
Then walks over to the Raffle organizer. He exclaims, “We’ve got the ticket!” He comes back with the primitive oil painting of our little red brick schoolhouse – and hands it to me.
He looks at me, shaking his head, incredulous. I smile back at him. “I told you we were going to win this.”
“What are we going to do with this? We have no walls!” My husband is happy to win something, but he’s also a practical man.
“We’ll find a good home for it.” I reply.
At this moment, I look up to see Deb approaching us saying in her quiet voice. “I’m so happy you won this. I know you’ll enjoy it. And the girls will enjoy it too.” She adds quietly, “I’m just a little bit sad. I bought 4 sets of tickets. I even had a spot picked out.”
I thank Deb and give her a hug. (And I know what we’re going to give her for an end-of-year teacher gift. We won it for her).
As we’re getting into the car, I tell my family we’re going to give the painting to Deb as a surprise. All agree it’s the perfect gift for a much beloved teacher.
Then it dawns on me.
“Hon?! What was the number on the winning ticket?”
My husband can’t remember. He pulls the ticket from his pocket. “It’s O-5-O.”
“Oh, My God! Anthony helped us win that raffle! He helped us get the painting. And he solved our gift idea for Deb!”
On the way home, I explain the Soul System to my bewildered husband. I tell him how Anthony has been coming in since Friday night. How he’s been hanging out with Matilda. That I asked for distinct proof it was Anthony. And got it.
My husband doesn’t question this. He feels it’s Anthony. He answers matter-of-fact, “It’s the kind of thing he’d do, isn’t it? Let us know he’s here – with something fun, that helps people. It’s very creative, how he did it.”
I agree. It’s seems exactly the kind of thing Anthony would do.
We’ve now parked in our driveway and my husband turns to me saying, “Looks like you have a job to do: Talk to Monica and Rufus. Let them know he’s around.”
That night we finally get the girls fed and to bed. They’re having difficulty settling down. So much excitement playing with their friends at the Auction. My husband leaves the newspaper open on the kitchen table – Anthony’s life is outlined in a big city newspaper article with a photo of a heart-breaking impromptu roadside memorial.
I check FaceBook. More comments. Kids are shocked. There are many posts about promising not to drink and drive, and not let friends do it either. “Tony’s Promise” is spreading fast.
My sister-in-law calls me. Sheryl says, “Lo, we spent the day with Monica, Rufus and Alanna. It was so sad. I think it would really help if you called them. You won’t bother them.”
I know. It’s time. I’m not sure how that’s going to play out though. Monica and Rufus don’t know much about me, about our mediumship abilities. I let that thought go. What’s supposed to happen will happen. I’m tired. I need to go to bed.
“Mommy!!!!!!”
It’s 3 am. It’s Matilda.
I’m quick to Matilda’s room, making sure her yells don’t wake up Kate in the other room. Anthony is standing by the bed.
“It’s okay, Mattie. Anthony’s here. He’s our friend, remember? I’ll stay with you til you fall asleep.”
Matilda rolls over, pulls the covers over her head. I slip under the comforter on the spare bed. Soon I hear the snuffling of Matilda’s soft snores. I shuffle bleary-eyed back to my room. Anthony is soon sitting on my bedside. I can see him clearly. He’s definitely crossed over. We chat.
“Anthony. I told you that I’d tell your Mom and Dad you’re here. Tell me what happened”.
I hear Anthony’s voice in my head.
“It happened so fast.” (He shows me a car coming across the center line – the scene is playing on a screen in my head).
“I wasn’t scared. I just tried to get out of the way. When it hit, I didn’t feel anything.” (I don’t feel any pain in my own body as Anthony says this. Often I do feel the physical pain of others.)
“I just felt my body tingle – it felt good – and then I lifted up out of my body. I saw…” (Anthony shows me his grandmother looking at him through the windshield). “She gave me a hug. She took my hand. I was so happy to see her. She’s alive, you know. She’s here, you know.”
I know. I say, “Anthony, was this an ‘accident’ or was this your time?”
“Well…. if it was an accident, it was a pretty good time to go.”
I understand what he’s saying. He’s an old soul. As we collectively move into higher consciousness, Anthony is activating a huge number of teenagers. And many of us adults. Life is short! He’s reminding us to live full out, follow our passions. But do it with care and kindness for those around us.
The next day I have errands in the city. Anthony seems to be enjoying the ride in the passenger seat. “I have friends who will want some things of mine. Tell Mom. She’ll know what to give. But when the time is right. There’s no rush.”
He shows me a red car.
It’s in his room. I can’t tell from the images if it’s a toy car, a picture, or what. But the message is a red car. I need to tell Anthony’s parents. They’ll know what it means.
I’ve been crossing to do’s off my list and now sit in the car in the pharmacy parking lot. The radio is on. I crank up the music. I’m nervous. I know I must call the McColls. The news cuts in. There’s a clip about the accident. The news reports the crash as occurring just after 2:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. It’s now Monday. It gives me the nudge. I pick up my cell phone. Anthony is happy. He says, “Don’t worry. You won’t reach them. They’re busy.”
I ring the home number anyway. A woman answers. Rufus and Monica are being interviewed by a television crew. Can I call back later? I’m amazed at the media coverage this is getting.
But I also have that sinking feeling, after you crank yourself to do something difficult, only to find you have to wait it out. Anthony has this grin on his face. “I told youuuu!”
I’m wondering again, how is this going to play out.
The radio music filters into my brain. It’s Kelly Jones singing Maybe Tomorrow. The Stereophonics’ lyrics say a lot about how to live life fully, even though things may seem black at the time. And the song’s refrain is “Maybe tomorrow… I’ll find my way home…”
Anthony says, “See? You’ll talk to Mom and Dad tomorrow!”
I have to laugh. Spirit often, I mean OFTEN, uses music to get its messages across. That’s one way we can tap into our loved ones who’ve left this physical plane. When you are thinking of them, turn on your favorite radio station and listen to the music.
Anthony changes the subject. He confesses, “I’ve been kinda buggin’ Alanna.”
Once a big brother, always a big brother.
“What have you been doing to that poor girl?” I admonish.
“I’ve been teasing her. Pulling her hair. Things are dropping for no reason.” An honest answer.
I see a pencil rolling off a desk, a book falls out of a girl’s hand; Alanna is swiping stray hairs away that keep falling onto her face.
“Does she know it’s you?” I ask.
“I think she does but she’s afraid to believe it.”
“She’s afraid?” I’m saying this with just a bit of pointed parental irritation.
“I knowwww…”Anthony admits he’s possibly freaking out his sister. “I’m backin’ off…”
“I’ll get the message to her that it’s you. Just don’t stand so close. ‘K?”
“Thank youuuuu.” he replies in a monotone.
Sheryl calls me that night. “Did you see the TV interview with Rufus and Monica? It’s posted on the news website.”
I load the video news interview of Anthony’s parents.
Anthony’s heart-broken parents are sitting close to each other at their kitchen table, talking to the reporter about the accident, about the parents of the son who plowed into Anthony’s vehicle. The spliced-in video B-roll shows a crumpled red car.
Rufus has tears in his eyes. He’s saying, “We hold no judgment. This could have happened to any of us. We’ve all lost a child in this tragedy”. Monica is nodding her head in agreement, holding her husband’s hand.
At this moment, I start to cry. I am so proud of those two. It’s an honor to be a friend of theirs. Their compassion and forgiveness is truly remarkable. They are role models for us all. They didn’t follow the typical “easy” path of blame. They rose above it.
I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
I look up from my dining room table. Anthony is coming through. He’s got his arm around someone’s shoulders. It’s another young man. I cannot see the man’s face – It’s blurry. His body outline is fuzzy. And his energy feels unsure, nervous, possibly a little frightened. The young man doesn’t speak.
Anthony looks me straight in the eye and states, “We’re not leaving him behind.”
That’s when it hits me. It’s the boy who hit Anthony. But he’s lost. He’s not crossed over. (A.k.a a ghost). Anthony is staying with him. Reassuring him. This is what Anthony would do.
Before they fade away, Anthony adds, “Look at the video again – I’m with them. I’m standing behind Mom, on her left side.”
I go back to the computer, and press ‘play’ on the news video. I scan the scene for signs. I don’t see Anthony. But I do see Monica is wearing a crisp white shirt – and there’s a spot on her left shoulder that is surprisingly crinkled, where a hand might rest.
As I listen again to Rufus’s words of forgiveness, I am struck by the true meaning of Anthony’s words…‘We’re not leaving him behind’. Anthony is telling us he’s working through the veil, co-creating with his parents. They are a team. The McColl family will always be a team. By voicing their compassion, Rufus and Monica will help the young man release from this earth. He won’t get stuck here, attached to the physical realm. He’ll be freed.
And Anthony’s family’s words and actions will encourage others to forgo judgment. What’s done is done. No need to create more pain by criticizing, finding fault, laying blame. We are all connected. This tragedy could have happened to anyone. How we choose to respond to the heartbreak is what counts. It’s about choosing kindness and forgiveness and compassion. It’s about living life and choosing love. That’s Anthony’s message.
- With thanks to Spirit for infinite return.
(c) 2010, 2011, 2012 The Accidental Medium. UltraMarine Media Inc. All Rights Reserved.
