I just have to give myself a break from my blogs because it’s not only giving me writer’s cramp but also sleepiness nights. The thing is that my fingers can’t type as fast as my brain can think, and I’m been kept awake by recurring nightmares of my past life that rides through my dreams. Although the reminiscent chapters of my life, so far, has been a labour of love, in more ways than one, it does evoke in me a multitude of emotions that I had thought was done and dusted. When perusing what I had written it can be all over the place with random thoughts of the subject matter, which then requires a rewrite. Not that I mind, because I’ve always had a love of words. This love of words has followed me from the very beginning when as a child sitting on my grandma’s lap been read to from her Nederlandse Bybel (Dutch Bible). Not only that, but also her adamancy of me paraphrasing and knowing what the words meant. From then on in my unceasing search for the written word was captivated by the weekly newspaper purchased by my dad that I not only read from front to back, but also encouraged by him to read it out loud to him. Although I devoured library books there was one thing that eluded me, I didn’t comprehending some of the words I was reading. So what did I do to satisfy my hunger for that, I bought a dictionary and read and studied it from cover to cover. I have also read the Catholic Bible, which I still have when first bought, the Jew’s Torah because of my Jewish heritage and the Quran because of Muslim family connections, and with all of those bases covered I have an intellectual understanding of their various differences. I also had the tendency to not only hawl my arse to the toilet but also whatever I was reading too, and that would also be part of my daily routine on the bus, train and while I was eating.
And then along came my computer geek grandsons with comprehensive interest in computer science that was unceremoniously dumped on me as if I was computer literate and in their category. At first I thought I didn’t have a snowballs hope in hell in comprehending all the bells and whistles that went with it, and I didn’t also appreciate the laughing at my expense for my one finger typing, at first. When beginning to understand the mechanics of the operating systems, it gave me an insight of how it related to the working of the brain, which then became a piece of cake with a cherry on the top. It became also thought provoking when making a comparison between computers and us as human beings, but computers although not evolving as the brain has for us to function as such, has evolved with certain similarities. For it to function, it first has to be switched on though, which like we have to be at times to get motivated and our arses into gear, and the microprocessor in it that is called the brain is because it is a tight complex collection of transistors arranged so that they can be used to manipulate data. The BIOS (basic input/output system) is the heart because it is one of two chips that define the personality, or individuality, of the computer, and the hard drive is the main repository for programs and a document worked on, and also contains the system files that lets the computer spring to life. Like our layman knowledge of our physical working parts, it too works in conjunction with the same type of knowledge with its rather more complex electrical mechanical component parts. I just love the way I now have the world at my finger tips and not like before in the dark ages of my time when one had to milk information from whatever sparse available source there was.
Now I know we all have dreams when sleeping and it doesn’t matter if we remember them or not, but seeing how I’m subjected to nightly dreams for ever so long that I can remember, I think I have the wood on that; an Australian saying meaning to have an advantage over something. Even with my limited computer knowledge of the marrying up of the complex function to the brain, I have come to the conclusion that dreams are part and parcel of this too. When dreaming, the mind data bank processes in a rapid search so as to computerize the viewing, coding and filing of that information to relate and to file under a similar index, it then extracts to compare and brings to light happenings of everyday life in the dream, just like the pictures on the computer screen. It also stands to reason that modern technologies of computers also teach in pictures that are worldwide accepted and comprehended. Icons on the screen represent an object or function that the user may manipulate or otherwise use, and those icons were introduced so as to teach computers how people think in pictures. Ah you say, I don’t think in pictures. Ah I say, you do. We all have photographic memories, even the blind and the deaf with only four sensory capabilities have Braille and signing that evokes pictures to the mind. As children, parents and teachers taught us with objects, and when a word was uttered we first saw the picture and the word was descriptive. In former years full sentences were used on signs to indicate ideas, objects and processes that couldn’t be read by foreign persons visiting other lands. But when it was changed to symbols, which are pictures, and it visually conveyed the same information, it was universally understood. Modern technologies of computers also teach in pictures that are worldwide accepted and comprehended. Icons on the screen represent an object or function that the user may manipulate or otherwise use, and those icons were introduced so as to teach computers how people think in pictures. Yeah! We really transfer reality to our brain with pictures not words, which only adds a dimension to the picture that is conjured up by the mind. Because of the basic concept that everything we see is a picture of a noun or things, not words, and because the minds intake of our senses pictorial input is constant, that’s why we don’t dream in words. Can I get an amen to that!
Then there is this thing called DNA. When I was a kid and got onto trouble, I was always told that I took after my dad, granddad or uncles. But when good, it was my mum, grandma or aunts that I took after, never the other way around. I could never fathom that because to me the males in my life were good guys and the females the trouble makers. The males wouldn’t say you can’t do this and you can’t do that, but the females would, all the time. Or the other cough drop that you looked like certain family members. That really use to piss me off and it would find me peering in a mirror to see where the likeness was because there was some of my family that I really didn’t want to look like. Then I found that over the last twenty years psychological research has progressively pushed the onset of formative experience further and further back. From weaning to birth then life in the womb, right back to conception, and now the inception of DNA that are pedigrees written in sequences that carry us back to generations of our ancestors. How that complex information gets into our cells, and how arrangements are made for its precise replication, and the obedient implementation of its instructions is as complex as the a, b, c was to me when as a child, but became simpler when learning, and so too is DNA now. It made me realize that my families weren’t the bunch of arse holes as I thought them to be, it was because of my ancestors and I couldn’t blame that one on the dog, could I?
The behaviour repertoire encoded in everyone’s central nervous system comes from experiences, yet not all from actual experiences reiterated by each individual with each generation, but also from experiences accumulated by ones entire ancestry. My dreams I eventually realized too was a means to tune into my past and into my future via my accumulative ancestors inherited genes. Although at times seeming topsy-turvy with bits and pieces of what seemed like irrelevant happenings thrown in, it was all about of life experiences as a visual dream display unit. The reason why the dreams were at times all over the place, which I eventually came to terms with, was due to the data bank of the mind with its data base being processed in a rapid search as it computerized the viewing, coding and filing. The people I met in my dreams, the happenings and environments that were foreign to me were retrospective experiences of ‘done that before’, ‘been there before’ or ‘was somebody else before’, which are often referred to as déjà vu experiences. I when having that dream experience in the present, was stronger when it was a direct genetic line to the ancestor that I didn’t know who it was, but would have visited the place in the past and would have had the same happening experiences that I had visualized in my dream, and that happenings, environment and feelings when it did occurred to me were my dream experiences that related to my experienced reality. Genes are the vehicle of biological inheritance and the medium through which living things transmit genetic information from one generation to the next, which was reinforced in my four-semester diploma course of Care of Intellectually Handicapped Persons. We have in the past and present faced the reality of biological inheritance as it is revealed in our children and in the ancestors of our distant past, and it is impossible to ignore the uncanny resemblances between members of one’s own family. I think I’ve really saw the light in my ‘old’ age because of the new age, instead of that fuddy duddy crap that was fed me before.
Now some wandering thoughts just for the hell of it or maybe it should be heaven for those we think both ways, a little something that may raise the dead so as to speak. My eldest son, Christopher, age 54, died on the 9th January 2011 at 9.09am due to leukaemia complications in the Prince of Wales Hospital, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. However, this was not the time of his death given by the specialist there when they phoned to confirm that. They had put him on a life support system the previous evening, but at 8.30am the next morning they said he had had a turn for the worst. But when they phoned again at 5.30pm they advised us that it would be disconnected so that he would have a peaceful and dignified ending. At 6.30pm they phoned again to say that he was dead. Now why I can state that he died at 9.09am is because his spirit came to let me know in no uncertain terms. As usual as when a person close to me dies and their essence enters and overtakes me that cause an eerie feeling to course through my body, and then my body shakes so that I have to sit down and hold on tightly while tears flow continuously from my eyes, this too is what occurred when Chris’s spirit came to me. My wife and daughter who were there when this manifestation occurred where uncontrollable in their grief when I said through my tears that he had just died, especially my wife who couldn’t be consoled by either of us and stayed in the bedroom for a good hour sobbing and saying repeatedly that he wasn’t dead. And then her heartfelt sobbing stopped and she came to tell us that Chris had come to her, touched her head and said, “don’t cry Mum, I’m free at last.” Actually I’m getting goose-bumps just writing this.
Now because my son Chris had a strong persona and was also physically strong when alive, his presence was constantly powerful to all of the family. My youngest son, Greg, who is a computer whiz and a night club DJ nominated himself to organized Chris’s type of music of his era during a showing on a slide screen photos of his life from babyhood until before his death, which he also did, during the viewing at the funeral chapel. It didn’t go though as Greg thought it should be done, because Chris paid him, his partner and me a visit with a message of setting it out differently, which Greg did. There were many other incidents that he had pointed us in the direction that he wanted and still wants things to go. Let me explain why. All of the family lived in Surfer’s Paradise, Queensland, a distance of 850 klm / 528 miles in another state where Chris had died. The family wanted the funeral service to be here in Queensland because that was his wish for wanting to come home long before he died. Having organized for his body to be sent from Sydney we thought that it would be a formality. But it was not to be because of the floods that swept through New South Wales and Queensland, and we had to wait until it subsided because his body was coming by road. His body during all that time had to be kept on ice for up to the duration until his viewing and funeral/cremation on the 21 January 2011. As with all funeral services there was heaps of crying, however, family and friends gave him a celebration farewell. The wake that followed was one that also kept the neighbours a-wake because it went on into the small hours of the morning, a combination of South African and Italian cuisine, Irish whiskey and music and singing, which were all Chris’s favorites. Now when we had part of his personal possessions mailed to us to sort out, do you know when going through it how Chris was on our backs or should I say minds to finish off things of his that he couldn’t have done before his death? To put this it into perspective, he died within seven weeks from being diagnosed with leukemia and admitted to hospital. So there was heaps of unfinished business of his that we had to sort out and finish for him…I suppose that’s why he hung around to see that we did it properly because that’s the way he was. You know how it’s said that dogs sense those who have passed over, I now know it’s true because Chris used Millie our Lhasa Abso as a signal with her growling in his direction when he came and still comes on his many visitations. When told,” Shush Millie it’s only Chris”, she slinks off to hide under a table or behind a chair but keeps on growling in his direction.
To add further fuel to the fire this is what my niece Antoinette Read added to a Psychic Paranormal site that I have, which the above is an extraction from. Further to my Uncle’s discussion of his son Chris (my 1st cousin) passing, I would like to relate a few things that occurred after Chris passed. The night I found out that he had passed away I wanted to say something to my Aunt & Uncle & my cousins that would give them some comfort in that Chris was now free of this world and also free of the pain of his illness. I found the poem “Don’t Cry” and sent it. Uncle Harold later asked me to read it at Chris’ funeral as words that Chris would perhaps have said to us all. Of course I agreed. Last week I found out from Chris’ sister Regina that Chris himself had previously given the very same poem to an ex-girlfriend upon hearing of the death of her mother! Chris has also since visited my youngest daughter Sophie who told me that “someone was peeping at her from her bedroom door”…I had thought she was half asleep when it happened but she was actually wide awake and going back to her bed after going to the bathroom. She described a man who was a bit “fuzzy” and made of little white dots and was bald/balding (my cousin Chris had lost some hair due to chemo) who was looking at her. A few nights later I had not been sleeping very well and was woken from light sleep by the noise of the light switch on my bedroom wall being switched on and off several times – the noise grabbed my attention as I only use a bedside lamp in my room and the main light does not have a bulb in it. This happened again several nights later. Along with the things that Uncle Harold has mentioned I am sure that it is my cousin Chris just letting us know that he is still around us.
Now another moment of truth, to us, that is also an extraction from my site. My wife Joan, daughter Regina and I had our first ever medium reading on 9 April 2011 done by Debbie Bozicevic-Mewes / Psychic Medium. This wasn’t a planned anniversary date reading because of my eldest son Christopher dying on 9 January 2011, but a set of circumstances due to our former booking being cancelled by Debbie due to her family commitments. We hadn’t given that date any thought until his wife Marie notified us that the 9th was when he had died. Coincidence…we don’t think so. And to prove his point for all the other things that has occurred since his passing over, when we arrived at the security gates of Debbie’s residence, facing us was a parked car with the registration number plates of CHRIS 1, another coincidence? Out of all the number plates in the whole of Australia why that one on that day.
It was a lay-back casual reading done in her bedroom with no gadgets but a laptop on where she recorded the whole reading on so that we could have a tape recording of. Chris was thoughtful enough to bring my father Harold who had passed over 25 years ago with him because they medium notified us that there was a Harold with him. Now Chris being the eldest grandson had grown up and was cared for by my parents since his birth, spoiled I’d say. We were told that my dad was singing away and very happy, and with him was a woman with a name that sounded like Delilah, but on recollection it was his Jewish mother Delphinia who had passed over when he was quite young. And there was also a group of other women with him that were singing and laughing as though they were having a party. Now for as long as I can remember my dad always sang in a baritone voice, which Debbie mentioned when hearing him sing, and he also said that he liked to party…go dad for it seems he is still doing that on the other side. Since then I’ve recalled about a group photo I have of my father with my mother, his sister Olga, sister in law Muriel and my brother’s wife Pearl who have all passed over. I also had no doubt that his other sisters Doreen and Maude, who have also passed over, were in that group egging him on as they always did in real life. My dad must have become emotional when talking about Chris’s past life because Debbie’s eye filled with tears as she became emotional too when relating what was been told to her. He was saying things like what a good, kind hearted person he had been in helping other people with their problems, and how family orientated he had been to the extent of trying to duplicate what our family life had been like.
Chris must have thought enough was enough from the family because Debbie said he placed himself in front of all of them so that he could have his say. Coming through he validated many occurrences after he had passed on that we knew he was responsible for, and that he was now more with us than he had been before. That we weren’t crazy and that we should answer him back, which my niece Toni, who had accompanied us, and I were doing from the onset, and he acknowledged that by saying thanks for listening. He didn’t also wanted to be remembered by the family as in death with drawn and hollowed features because he always was handsome as he was then…we found that hilarious for him reminding us about that.. And he also stated that as gregarious as he was in life…he had a way with words, so was he still, and we were then told that he was doing a few dance moves, which he said he was still good at…and was he ever when hitting the dance floor. The next thing threw us a bit when we were told that he had a baby in his arms that he said had passed over and was of our immediate family. We couldn’t fathom that because Chris had been the first death in our family. Until my wife suggested that maybe it was the four month miscarriage that she had after our fourth child…we had five eventually, and when asking what it was, we were told it was a boy, so it seems we had five boys and a girl. He was also concerned about the weight loss of my wife and daughter, which was also a concern of mine that I mentioned a lot at home because they weren’t eating well since his death, and he advised them to start looking after themselves better. It also seemed that someone had received a piece of jewellery from him and that someone had a tattoo of his name on them, which we have now ascertained that a friend of his has such a ring and his wife has the tattoo on the calf of her leg.
We were then being thanked by Chris for the kind words about him expressed by the family at his funeral, and the appropriate kind of music played that he liked, except for one that could have had a better number on it, cheeky devil. He loved the wake that followed at our home that lasted till the wee hours, and said while he was there somebody said that the party was like old times…which my son Greg had said to me at the wake. Gregory who Chris called the music man, and who was responsible for the funeral DVD music, teased him by saying he could have done better and that’s why Chris had been mucking around with his computer when Greg was recording and cutting it. Chris also admitted that any switches, lights, mobile phones, computers or anything electric that had been malfunctioning had been all his doing to let us know that he was around. Yes we had suspected most of it was his doing, and that’s why we went for a reading so as to verify it. What he was also very appreciative about was that his death had brought many of the other families back and closer together, which had and was occurring daily. We were also told that we weren’t to worry about Luke, his nephew and my eldest grandson, which we do at times, because he was watching over him and he loved him very much. Chris then gave his whole attention to my wife Joan, his mother, and as Debbie conveyed Chris’s love for her as her curly haired boy, tears streamed out of Debbie’s eyes with emotion. She went on to say that Joan had always been the one to stick up for him no matter what with unconditional love and that she had never let him down. He also let her know that when she felt like a hand going through her hair or a soft touch on her cheek that it was him kissing her there, which she experiences frequently. After we were told that he loved us very much and saying goodbye, we were also told that he was holding a small white dog. Just for a moment we were perplexed at that turn of events, until Joan reminded us that it must be the little white dog that Chris had as a pet when a young boy that had been knocked down by a car, and had to be shot and killed by a policeman to put it out of its misery as it was done then.
However, it’s all good though because it has assisted in our time of grieving, and when passing over we will have those good times together again. In conclusion to all of this, I can emphatically say because of all of my other mediumistic experiences that I believe all paranormal occurrences are possible.
My deceased eldest son Christopher Anthony Lorenzo as he would have liked to be remembered by family and friends.