Everything changed once the secret was out. Ghosts were a reality I could no longer ignore, thanks to my daughter’s decision to tell me everything.
I knew instinctively that her gifts weren’t something I could wish away. They were a reality to her, and even though I couldn’t see them, like she could, I felt determined to protect her from the bad ones.
I dove into researching how I could help her and soon discovered something that would change everything drastically for us.
Both were herbs, and the first was periwinkle.
Known in medieval times as “the sorcerer’s violet”, this little plant was believed to have medicinal properties of various kinds and possess the ability to ward off evil spirits. It was said to be especially beneficial for the protection of children.
I found a little shop online that sold periwinkle amulets and immediately purchased a couple for Kiani and myself. They came in a little vial on a cord, and I gave one to her, instructing her to wear it constantly, outside showers and baths.
I also bought a bundle of sage and began smudging the house daily, saying a prayer of blessing as I went.
The effect was immediate.
After a few days of seeing nothing out of the ordinary, my daughter came to me and said it was working. She said she didn’t even see spirits outside of the house, at her friend’s houses, or at her dad’s, when she visited.
I was thrilled! And not only for her but myself as well. I had suffered from terrible, violent nightmares since I was a child, and they suddenly stopped. I had almost forgotten what a great night’s sleep was!
A couple weeks later, I had an experience, which I should mention before continuing.
I was at my acupuncturist’s office, being treated for allergies. It was quiet and peaceful. She had loaded me up with a few carefully placed needles and then left the room, closing the door behind her so that I could rest.
I used this time to go into a semi-meditative state. I wasn’t a fan of full meditation. The one time I had tried it, it had scared me near to death because my spirit had almost left my body. I remember a suffocating, panicky feeling, as if I were about to die. Then, when I opened my eyes to look down at my feet, all I saw was the wall to the right of my feet. My real feet were left of me because my spirit had shifted right, leaving only my head where it should be. I panicked and snapped back in. Not my thing.
As I lay there then, in my much safer head-space, lazily watching the colors shift and change behind my eyelids, I heard a distant sound from the reception room and pulled up out of it a bit. Except I knew I wasn’t alone.
In “my mind’s eye”, I “saw” a wolf laying on the floor by me. Its head was turned in the direction of the sound I had heard, ears perked forward. It listened for a moment then relaxed, turned its head forward, and began panting gently, much in the casual way a pet dog would, while waiting on its favorite human.
Instantly, I heard two words in my head.
And a word that wasn’t English.
I knew in my gut that this was my Guardian Spirit.
I mention this because my wolf played a part in what happened a few weeks later, when Kiani began seeing spirits again. Because oh, did she ever! Only this time, what my daughter saw and felt was quite different.
First, she started seeing spirits in snatches in the distance and then up closer. They were not the tortured, scary beings she was used to seeing quite commonly. They were harmless old ladies, smiling gentlemen in old hats, and dogs and cats by the dozens.
They came through our house all times of the day, even after saging. We quickly concluded that sage and periwinkle had no effect on gentle spirits. In fact, one little animal spirit seemed to prefer showing up right after we saged, as if he were hiding out, waiting for us to clean the area of “bad stuff” first.
We later surmised that perhaps negative spirits made gentle spirits uncomfortable and less likely to enter a house filled with them. I can’t say I blame them.
One day, Kiani came to me and said, “Mommy! There is a little animal following me around, and I can only see it in flashes. All I know is that it is cream-colored. When I look directly at it, it vanishes. But I can feel its energy.”
She got down on the ground and felt the air over a space above the floor no taller than ten inches.
“If you put your hands here, you can feel it. It’s all buzzy-feeling. Try it!”
I shrugged and knelt to feel the same patch of air.
“I don’t feel anything,” I said.
She looked disappointed for a moment, then went back to interacting with the little animal, trying out different positioning of her hands, walking away, and then following her senses back to it.
I smiled to myself over the thought of how funny this would look to someone who didn’t understand what was going on.
I headed upstairs to put away the laundry.
A couple minutes later, Kiani came into the room.
“Mommy, this is driving me crazy! I don’t know what this is! It’s either a cat or a dog, but I can’t see it!”
I glanced at her and grabbed a hanger in one hand and a shirt in the other.
“I don’t know, sweetie. Maybe just keep trying.”
She walked toward me. “I bet you could help me. What if you asked your wolf to tell us?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, curious. I hung the shirt up and reached for another hanger.
“I mean, close your eyes and ask the wolf.”
I blinked at her. “Uh…I suppose I could try that…can’t hurt.”
She nodded happily at me. I put the hanger back and followed her into the bedroom.
I laid down on the floor and gave it my best shot. I closed my eyes and said the wolf’s name (Feyla), then asked it to help us know what kind of animal Kiani was seeing.
I didn’t have to wait long.
The word jumped into my head with a little thump, like a frog onto a lily pad.
I repeated it to Kiani.
“Thank you!” she exclaimed.
Then, “Come here, doggie. Come here!”
I sat up and watched her wonderingly for a minute or so.
“You know what’s weird?” she pondered.
“I can’t see him, but I can feel where he is and what he’s doing. Isn’t that strange?”
“Very,” I replied.
“I do know what he looks like though. He is cream-colored with brown spots on his ears, like he has mud on him.”
Instantly, my mind recalled my neighbor from across the street. She once had a little dog, maybe five years ago. It had been run over after escaping the house on one of his many mischievous explorations.
But that couldn’t be him. I remembered him being all white, with no brown spots.
What the heck?
Without telling Kiani was I was doing, I texted my neighbor and asked her what her dog’s name had been because I couldn’t recall.
She texted back: “Gino.”
I said thanks and then, still in full Sherlock mode, I got on my neighbor’s social media page and looked back through old photos until I found Gino.
I’ll be damned.
Gino had been cream, with little patches of brown on his ears. So much for my memory of him.
I didn’t tell Kiani.
Instead, I put my phone down and said, “Ki, I have an idea. Let’s try and guess what the dog’s name is!”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes!” she said. “Good idea!”
“How about I think up names, and you see if the dog responds to them?”
I started listing off a variety of names. Spot, Tippy, Ralph (“Mommy! That’s a terrible name!), Harry, Fluffy, etc. Each time, Kiani would tell me the dog’s response; he is just sitting there, he wagged his tail once, he is looking at the window.
Then…I slipped in Gino.
Immediately, Kiani said, “Mommy, stop! He just looked up at you, wagged his tail, and ran over to you! Do you think that’s his name?”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yep,” I said. “I would say that’s his name for sure.”
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