Read The Coffee Grinds!
I mentioned in a much earlier blog that I befriended a woman while teaching in the Episcopalian School. She was there trying to figure out her life and making a little money while doing it.
She had a family like mine: husband, daughter and son. Her husband had a great job, and like my family, he was always looking for a little extra to make things like College, a new car, or a vacation a reality.
Her son was born with a congenital heart defect. He had excellent care and flourished. She was told when he was a small child that when he grew, additional surgery would be necessary to accommodate an adult body.
We kept in touch after I left that school, and then she left. and eventually, her son was approaching his teen years, and the additional heart surgery was nearing. She was so anxious (naturally) about that surgery, but there was no recourse. One day, she called me and said that she had arranged for a Clairvoyant to tell her what to expect from her son. She didn’t want to go alone, and I was the only one she could think of who would come with her. I thought, great, it would be fun.
The Clairvoyant lived fairly close to wear I taught, and we arranged an afternoon, after my classes, when we would go. When we arrived at the house, my friend needed a sedative! Well, she had come this far, so we walked in. All I can tell you about the house was that all the interior doors had been taken down and were replaced by bead curtains. (Except the bathroom) There were cushions and throw blankets on all the furniture. The woman herself was middle-aged and very thin. I don’t remember her smiling.
My friend was about to tell her why she was there, but the woman didn’t want to hear it. We sat at a kitchen table. The woman prepared a small demitasse for each of us. It was thick and a little bitter. It was really just a large gulp. We drank it. She had us turn the cup over to let the left liquid ooze out and leave coffee grinds at the bottom. At that point, we turned the cups back over and pushed our thumbs into the bottom of the ground to create a print. We were told to squish it around gently. Our part was now done. She looked at the two cups and said nothing. She then asked my friend if she wanted her reading to be private or not, and then she asked me. We both said no. She handed us a pen and paper and told us to write down what she would tell us individually.
What she seemed to know about us was disconcerting. I mean, until the moment I walked into her apartment, she didn’t even know my name! She started with me. The two main things she told me were that I would be moving south, but not all the way to Florida. Then she told me some medical stuff and finally said, “Oh, I see you have two children. One of your children will give birth to twins. They believe that they will have no more due to some fertility issue and therefore will not be careful, and a third will be born! Wow! Really. I was tickled. Then it was my friend’s turn; some of the woman's words made sense. She saw surgery for her son. The surgery would go well, but something was wrong, something forgotten. In the end, he would be OK. Secondly, she told my friend that her job would take her to work in a high-rise building. She would be in a room with a few other people. A great noise and vibration would happen. On a PA system, they would be told that the problem was not with them. It was the adjacent building, and they should stay put. “Don’t hesitate, get out of there!”
Well, we left, my friend more anxious than ever about a potential botched surgery, and I giggling that I was going to have twin grandchildren.
When I arrived home, I handed the paper to my husband and told him about the appointment. I even teased my kids, who were in their early teens at this point.
My friend and I forgot about this woman, and life continued.
When her son did have his surgery, everything the woman said came true. They left a surgical sponge in his body, which started to cause infection. It was easily remedied, and the sponge was removed. It was scary, and she tried to at least get some compensation for it. She couldn’t. Because her son lived and thrived, the courts felt she was not due any compensation.
When the years passed, I indeed did move south, but to Virginia—a coincidence and nothing more. My daughter married and had two wonderful single children. I started to tease my yet-to-be-married son that he would be the father of twins. He scoffed at me.
The year 2001, September 11. I was in Virginia, and it was the most beautiful fall day, with a clear sky and a perfect temperature. I was babysitting my grandson and had the TV on. The news flashed across the screen about a plane hitting the Twin Towers. While I was watching, I saw the second plane fly into the second building. I knew in an instant that was what the Clairvoyant was talking about. It took days for me to reach my friend. She really couldn’t talk about the incident, just that after the first plane hit and the explosion and the PA saying it was the other building, stay put, it flashed in front of her eyes, the afternoon all those years ago when this strange lady warned her. She looked at the other people in the room and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of here.”
They made it out alive right before the second plane wiped out the building she had just been in.
I knew without a doubt that I would be the Grandmother of twins. That's exactly what happened. I reminded my son again that he was going to have a third, and he looked at me and said, “Mother, I am a Doctor, I know how these things work and we aren’t having a third. All I can say is my youngest granddaughter, the third child of my son and daughter-in-law just turned 17!
It isn’t just my word; I have the paper to prove it!
