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ode to a psychic

Ruth is one of my dearest friends and the fact that she passed on a few years ago doesn’t stop me from talking to her.  You would think that a dead person who was so familiar with the other realms in her earthly life would be able to communicate back to me but she doesn’t.  I am a bit disappointed.  I miss her so much and love her for so many reasons.  She is a huge influence in my life.
So how to describe Ruth?
She was so much more than just her psychic abilities but I will start with them.  Ruth was a medium, meaning she channeled information from her spirit guides – a powerful force named Red Sun being one of her main ones.  This information came in “voices” or images (she once envisioned me driving my new red car before I even told her about it).  She used a tarot card deck to sort of lubricate her connection to spirit but she didn’t really need it to get her information.  She – and many psychics like her – was not a fortune-teller.  Rather she gave spiritual and sometimes even practical guidance.  I’ve been to other psychics over the years and some were an atrocious waste of time and money while others were not bad, but none of them were Ruth.  With Ruth the readings were a spiritual experience, both cozy and uplifting.
Physically she was kind of short, broad in the upper torso with sexy slim legs.  She looked a whole lot younger than she was although her hair was thinning on the top due to all the psychic energy flowing through there (she claimed this was true for a lot of psychics).  She had dragon lady nails, often painted some shade of purple, and wore many delicate gold rings on all her fingers.  When she gave a reading she would sometimes absentmindedly remove her rings and she once told me that this happened when the extraterrestrial guides were coming through.  Apparently they didn’t like the rings.
She dyed her short elfin hair either red or black and had very high cheek bones from some distant Cherokee lineage.  And on the subject of heritage, her mother was deeply psychic too.  None of Ruth’s grown children or grandchildren seemed to have inherited the gift, but I never met or talked to any of them to know for sure because she was often, sadly, estranged from them.  I think there were many misunderstandings there.
And Ruth suffered a lot of serious health problems.  Over the years I’ve known her she had a blood disease, a near liver failure, and what finally did her in was something to do with her lungs.  There were quite a few close calls in the hospital.  Towards the end she struggled so valiantly I believe it was probably a relief to her to pass on to the other side and no longer be in pain.
I will never forget the night I met her – it was a magical time.  A few of my new friends told me about this great psychic that they went to and when she was coming to town they arranged a little get-together so she could give everyone their own mini reading.  The event took place in a small New England village and we climbed a steep stairway to the upper floor of an ancient colonial house.  I don’t think I’d ever been to a real psychic before, at least not that I remember, but I was keenly interested in the metaphysical and even supernatural.  I got my reading and don’t remember what was said because it was very long ago, but I clearly recall feeling joyful afterwards.  I climbed back down the stairs and out into the frosty dark night.  A light dusting of snow had fallen while we were occupied within and it gave my car and the village a fairytale atmosphere.  That group reading led to other individual sessions with Ruth and somehow, just naturally, we became good friends.  She was there for me as a friend first and foremost, and was always willing to talk, gratefully never one to sugar coat things.
We started having lunch together before a reading or occasionally went for a walk in the park to sheepishly hug the trees.  We ate regularly at Chili’s – the hostess there was a psychic too – and towards the end of Ruth’s years I had to carry her oxygen tank in with us as well.  At the very very end (and she died in her early 60s) she couldn’t even leave the house so I brought lunch to her.  I still feel guilty about our last lunch together because I was exhausted so just stopped at the most convenient, easiest place to pick up food without asking her what she really wanted or was able to eat.  It turned out she couldn’t eat the cold cut sandwiches I brought because of the high sodium levels but at least she really loved the brownie.
With or without her guides Ruth was wise.  To this day I remember and repeat some choice channeled phrases that she taught me.  She would tell me to repeat “I am safe, loved, protected and secure”.  And if I was getting too wound up in worry, stress, or negativity she would remind me to “Tap the laughter”.  These phrases continue to bring me great solace but her information and advice on physical health were hit or miss.  She repeatedly told me to eat green algae to help with my depression and fatigue but it never seemed to do anything.  Also there was the Potato Diet where I was to eat one baked potato before bed each night to help cure depression.  That was a farce!  But she did “see” my dad’s heart condition years before he got it diagnosed, and she also introduced me to Tai Chi Chuck.  Tai Chi Chuck was a Chinese Medicine practitioner.  He did a series of cupping on my back and gave me really cool but stinky Chinese herbs and teas to take.  It helped with my fatigue while it lasted and I lost a ton of excess weight which was a nice bonus.
Ruth saw me through many a relationship with equal parts guided advice and commisery.  I must say when it comes to men I have a broken-picker and Ruth had endured her share of bad relationships too, even one to an abusive drunk.  While I knew her though she had a kind husband but neither one of them made much money.  I think they struggled to make ends meet because they lived in a rough little city.  I worried leaving my car parked out front of her house.  Inside though it was delightful – all kinds of cacti and paintings, and dream-catchers and other Native American decor.  In nice weather we would do our readings by the open window with sunlight and maybe a nice breeze streaming in.  I always, always paid her for our sessions.
I love Ruth dearly and miss her all the time.  Time spent with her never failed to make me feel better.  If I were to have a daughter I would name her Ruth.  But she is gone from this dimension and such is life (and death).  I’m sure she is much happier on the other side – from what I hear it is a terrific place – but I wish she would at least drop me a line sometime.

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