A guy walks into Applebee’s and finds a spot near me. I was by myself, not because I’m an alcoholic, but because I was on a business trip. The bartender has all ESPN stations, in English and Spanish, playing on each forty-eight inch flat-screen TV. The 2014 World Cup dominated news coverage; however, June 26, 2014, was an especially slow day at the bar in San Antonio, Texas. After one 20oz Shiner Bock down, I ordered a Crown and Coke. A week away from home and a busy work week, I was ready to responsibly relax and walk upstairs to my hotel room. I noticed the gentleman beside me. We each made a polite head gesture to acknowledge one another’s presence and set our territories. By doing so, instinctively we mutually set our boundaries to the bar stool that separated us. In that brief interaction, I noticed his business attire, his exhausted demeanor, and I quietly commiserated on our hectic, work-week away from home. Since I was a child, I just knew things without really knowing why I knew them. Minutes passed, I lost track of time. I texted my wife good night, reviewed my Facebook page, and read work emails. “One last double-shot of Crown and Coke? Sure, why not,” I thought. Suddenly, I felt my chest tighten. “Is it the caffeine? Am I having a stroke,” I questioned. The same guy, one bar stool away, asked me a question. Little did I know at that moment how life-altering our conversation would be; how this bar conversation would change my life.
I asked the gentleman to repeat the question. I was struggling to diagnose the pain in my chest. “Yes, there is a good chance that US will beat Belgium.” He continued to talk about soccer and sports, while I pretended to listen. “Who are you? What is happening,” I asked myself. I felt someone, something near me. I knew it someone trying to connect. At last, my drink arrived. Drink and flight was the response I immediately sought, but for some reason I was compelled to ask him questions. It was time for me to turn my passive listening to active talking.
Instead of asking his name or what he did for a living, I asked him what any normal person would ask, his age. Well, to be more precise, I asked him to confirm his age. I inquired, “Are you 52?” For whatever reason, I was not surprised to hear him confirm his age. Before he could finish processing why I was asking something so personal, I quickly followed up with, “Are you a banker?” Again, he confirmed he was a banker. “Cool,” I said while I paused and took another gulp of my drink. “Are you also known as Miguelito?” At this time, his sun-bathed faced turned pale. He was perplexed beyond description. His face showed deductive reasoning in process. He stammered, “Do we have mutual friends?” I debunked his deduction with a polite, “No.”
I apologized. Although I had enjoyed one too many drinks, I had the foresight to know how bizarre this conversation was going. I sounded crazy. I was merely repeating what I was seeing, feeling, and hearing. I gave Miguel the opportunity to decline, to turn around, and walk away from the schizophrenic, random dude at the bar. I asked three or four times if he was sure he wanted to hear what I was seeing, feeling, and hearing. Secretly, I wanted to stop, but he insisted. He wanted me to continue. I knew I felt a male energy trying to come through. The male energy was painting a picture. I discerned a farm, with a cactus, a little boy with overalls, running, and a green, old truck. He instantly made a connection. He affirmed he had fond memories growing up on his uncle’s farm. Then, the uncle shows me a body outline of an Operations game board (remember the old game?). Everything was blacked out except for the heart. The heart was red, but broken. I asked him, “Did your uncle pass from a heart attack or heart condition”? He quickly finished his beer. I saw sweat beads form just above his eye brow.
Imagine, here I am giving personal details to a random guy at a bar. I had no fears. At no time, did I think Miguel was going to pull out a gun and shoot me or throw me across the bar. I was guided to deliver this message.
Before I continued, I remember saying, “I know, this is totally crazy, I can stop whenever you want me to.” He was adamant. He wanted me to proceed.
Intuitively, I felt bad energy surrounding the farm, and I knew it was connected to a boy. I told him exactly what I felt. At first he did not make a connection. I felt profound regret; a big secret. I repeated what I felt. To my surprise, Miguel divulged that his uncle had two separate families. Just recently, he had met his male cousin. Miguel further added that he did not really intend to start a relationship with his cousin. The uncle made me aware that he wanted his family to accept his other son. I felt how much the uncle wanted a unified family. As I said those words, I saw tears form; I made a grown, random man cry. Never have I ever made a man cry. To undo the tears that I caused, I reassured him everything was going to be OK and summarized the point of his uncle’s message: to embrace his cousin. As soon as I completed that sentence, my chest pain completely dissipated. The energy I felt, the energy that was concentrated on my chest, left. Message delivered.
I got up from the bar; I saw a WF and an 89. I told him what I saw although, it did not make sense. I thought I was finished. I thought the uncle had left. Miguel did not make any immediate connections. What started off as a relaxing night at a bar completely turned my world upside down. The bar conversation altered my course in life. My eyes were unveiled to a world that includes Angels, Spirit Guides, & Mediumship. This blog is intended to share my journey, the books, articles, courses, and resources I researched to understand and grow as an intuitive medium. As for the bar tab, I turned to Miguel and told him my charge for the reading was my bar tab. I shook his hand and walked away thinking, “What the hell? Am I Theresa Caputo?”
I witness my superhero in action. That night after the cops where called and after being displaced to a friend’s house, my loving mother comforted my brothers and me as we feel asleep to her repeating affirmation, “We will be alright. Everything will be ok.”
As a catholic I am comfortable invoking saints and Mother Mary when as needed. I do ultimately pray to one, supreme, heavenly Father, but Mother Mary is the one that visits me in my dreams. She comforted me the many nights I feared being abducted by my father. She assuaged my nightmares and dried my tears with love and grace. She was present when I managed depression caused by years of molestation and caused my hands to steer left seconds before contemplating driving into a light post on I35 South. Most importantly though, I now know she has been my intuition.
This moment was an ode to my mother. As I started to ground myself from my meditative state, a silhouette of Mother Mary appeared in my mind’s eye. A fragrant smell of roses moments before the rain validated the importance of this special moment.
At such a young age she has captured the essence of A Course In Miracles, a book that many people read; a practice that many people try to implement in their adult lives.
On a serious note though, I have noticed the amount of fear people are harboring these days. I am not sure if the full moon is to blame, or the passionate, sensational political season, or the recent depraved acts committed by humans against humans and animals alike flooding our headlines, radio, and T.V. Regardless of the source, fear appears to be the present energy.
To conclude, in Scripture, John 4:24, we know “God is Spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in Spirit and Truth”. To me, the truth is there is good and bad in the world. I know God is Spirit. I pray, meditate, and have faith that His grace is with me and allows only love, joy, happiness, laughter, and abundance in my life and shuts the door to any werewolves, crazies, and zombies.
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