Let me start by saying that there is a direct maternal line of "psychic sensitivity" in my family, from my grandmother to my daughter. We acknowledge and respect it, but it's not something that any of us has really pursued. It's just part of us, like green eyes and prematurely gray hair.
The other thing I need share is that I have a wonderful godson, Kieran, who was diagnosed with cancer when he was three. When he was born, I had no connection to him except that my daughter worked with his mother. She brought him home to babysit one night when he was about a year old, and he and I instantly "clicked". We are two Celtic Scorpios with a bond that defies description, despite the fifty year age difference. So I became his "fairy godmother," so to speak, and his family is now our family.
Kieran was always the picture of health, so we had no reason to suspect that there was a monster working inside of him. Shortly before he was diagnosed, however, my daughter showed me a picture that she had taken of him. He was standing at the window, smiling at the camera, as the sheer white curtains blew around him. She loved the picture; it disturbed me terribly because it looked too ethereal, for lack of a better term. I just didn't like it. It gave me the creeps.
A month later, Kieran was in the hospital, fighting for his life. He responded well to the treatment, but it left him very susceptible to infection. Despite our precautions, that fall he contracted a mysterious and life-threatening pulmonary virus which quickly resulted in his being put on life support. I flew from Virginia to New York City to be with him and support his mother. I was horrified that he had to endure this, but I "knew" that he would pull through, although the doctors repeatedly suggested that we prepare for him to die.
On the third night, Kieran's mother and I were keeping vigil in his PICU room. She was sitting beside him reading a magazine, while I sat across the room doing a crossword puzzle. When I glanced over at my boy, I saw what I can only describe as a black cloud hovering around his body. (Honestly, I initially thought that I was having a stroke, but I wasn't.) As I watched, the blackness moved around his bed and then, taking the shape of a swarm of bees, it headed up to the ceiling and then disappeared out the closed window.
I said nothing to anyone, but my mind was racing as to what that could have been. The entire experience lasted perhaps twenty seconds. I later headed back to my hotel room where I waited for an answer or explanation to come to me. Instead, what I got was a phone call from mom saying that the doctors had suggested getting the rest of the family to NYC to say their goodbyes. With no concrete reason for doing so, I suggested that she wait until morning, because I had a feeling that that would not be necessary.
The next day, as I walked to the hospital, I suddenly felt a sensation as if someone had lifted a huge burden from my shoulders. I knew what that was, because I have experienced it before when a problem or crisis is about to be resolved. Thus, I entered the hospital feeling cautiously optimistic and was met with the news that the latest x-rays showed improvement, much to the doctors' surprise. Kieran continued to improve daily, was removed from life support within a week, and left the hospital two weeks later. He continues to do well today.
While I am not in any way a religious person, I do think that there are forces which we do not understand. Did I witness something evil leave that child's body that night, or was something evil trying to overtake him, only to be rebuffed? Was the whiteness surrounding him in that earlier picture a positive force? The white and black symbolism is so obvious, but I saw what I saw.
I would welcome anyone's thoughts on this!