Why Your Psychic Abilities and Funerals Never work Out The Way You Plan.

My aunt Joyce died at the weekend.

She had been fighting chronic COPD for a few years, and she died peacefully from pneumonia at the age of 70. Leaving behind 3 devastated children who had already lost their father, my uncle, to  an aggressive brain tumour, when only in his 50’s. 

The day aunt Joyce died I was doing my daily meditation, when there she was, as large as life, in my third eye.

She told me she was happy, and was rubbing her hands with glee at the thought of attending her own funeral the following week. 

Aunt Joyce loved a bit of gossip, especially as she and her sister didn’t get along very well in life, and she was looking forward to her final hoorah to the world.

She did ask me to wear a cap for her funeral, and not to take it off during the service, just to annoy her sister, but we compromised on me wearing my noise cancelling headphones instead.

The day of the funeral finally arrived , when the family would gather together at the crematorium, and pay their last respects to Joyce.

Joyce’s sister completely blanked me, as was expected, the funeral was going well with no visible signs of Joyce actually being there, until the song ‘I am sailing’ by Rod Stuart began to play,.

As the curtains closed around her coffin, there she was, on a ledge above the curtains strumming a fake Guitar, and singing her heart out. 

I actually laughed out loud but managed to stop myself before anybody other than my daughter who was sitting next to me, noticed that I was laughing, as Joyce went into her place in the next world.

I was not sad that Joyce had gone, she had been wanting to join her husband, the love of her life, since he had left this Earthly plane. 

She was happy, and I was happy for her.

Being happy at a funeral isn’t really the done thing, so after relating the incident to her three grieving children, my cousins, who already know I am strange, but accept me anyway, I left knowing that I had given some comfort to those who needed it. Farewell Aunt Joyce, until we meet again. 

love Betty 💕💕

Author: thejointatthetopofthegarden

Hi, my name is Betty Boop (names may have been changed to avoid prosecution . I’m a 50 year grandmother of 4 little beauties and I’m a bit nuts.

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