I've been psychic ever since I can remember. My earliest days of childhood are filled with what the general population would consider 'unusual experiences'. My grandmother, the woman who raised me, viewed this phenomenon as completely natural. Thus, as a small child-- so did I. Then, in 1969, a psychic experience was to change my life forever.
Easter Sunday, 1969, I was 12 years old:
It had been a horrendous winter. My aunt & uncle had been snowed in for months. We were only able to have Easter dinner with them by driving a long route and coming in from the east as opposed to the more direct west route. Even then, we had to park our car on top of a hill and walk part of the way to their farmhouse, down a hill, across a small valley and up over the next hill.
It was after dinner. The women were still in the kitchen chatting. My uncle and grandfather were sitting in the living room listening to music, along with my sister and me. We were both perched on the edge of a long piano stool. I looked across the room at my Uncle, who was stretched out on the sofa, one arm behind his head. As I watched, I was startled and fascinated to see the back of the sofa suddenly swing forward and close over him. I realized that I was seeing my uncle in a coffin with the lid being closed. I shook my head and blinked my eyes to rid myself of this vision.
Later in the afternoon, he left to go outside and check the water levels in the driveway, where the melting snow was beginning to cause flooding. My sister and I were standing in the dining room window, watching him walk up to the house.
We turned away.
A second later we heard a muffled noise, and my aunt came hysterically screaming from the kitchen doorway, "Mom! Mom!"...calling my grandmother.
My Uncle had stepped into the entryway off the kitchen and collapsed.
They called for an ambulance - which came in the wrong way, the way that was still blocked with deep snow banks, and they had to turn around to come in the same way we did. They also had to walk a gurney the same path we took, across the valley. It took so long for help to get there.
My uncle died that day.
For years afterward, I thought that by seeing that vision I had caused it to happen. I spent a great many years deliberately attempting to squelch any psychic thoughts. It wasn't until I was in my late teens that I finally told my grandmother about that day and what I saw. She reassured me that what I had seen had been a premonition and had nothing to do with causing the event.
It was then that I really began to understand.