Chapter 7 The First Anniversary & Channel Writing
It has now been a year since Chris crossed over. The pain that we have felt individually and shared as a family is almost incomprehensible. The void his crossing has caused in us all will never be filled or healed. There’s no way to sugar coat this reality. But I am also very proud that I have been trying to find a connection and some answers in the world of spirit. I don’t view this effort as a way to temporarily ease the pain, but rather as a connection that is not bound by accepted philosophy. If there is something there and he is part of it, and if I can connect to it and through it him, I need to find out. And if it all turns to out to be new age nonsense, then I want to move on and try to find another outlet for my grief.
In the past year I have reached out and spoken to three established mediums, all of whom connected with Chris. That number will increase in 2017. I have started meditating and attending spirit groups to try to open my psychic abilities. I wanted to hone my skills. My intention is to sharpen my skills so that I can get closer to my Chris. I want to feel what I felt in Sarasota, all the time. I want to feel the energy and excitement the medium experiences as they send messages from Chris all the time. And unless I want to become a cosmic groupie, or psychic Dead Head, then I better figure this out. So slowly and unsurely that was what I began to do.
And on the morning of January 3, 2017, one year after Chris’ crossing, something clicked. I was awakened at 3 a.m., something that wasn’t that unusual. I went into my office, which used to be Chris’ bedroom. In the past year I began this practice of sitting at my desk, lighting candles and sage (which to me has the sweet smell of a sweaty athletic teen, so familiar to me) and listening to meditation music. I have pictures of Chris as a young man and a child that I would focus on. My hope was that this mediation would bring him closer to me.
However, this was the anniversary of his crossing. I assumed that the 3 a.m. spirit wakeup call was because this was the time of his crossing. It was only later in conversation with Andrew did I find out that spirits are most active between 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. What happened next was a surprise to me.
On my desk along with some stones purchased around Christmas from one of those stores, were pens and a legal pad. During my mediation I picked up the pen and began to write. What follows is the exact conversation with Chris from the other side. I didn’t think …. I just began to write.
The first message given was that I should have a cross in my office. This voice (came more like thoughts than a voice) in my head and I am absolutely convinced that my Christopher crossing back over to reach me.
“It’s like a beach, beautiful and pink, warm but the colors are soft and vibrant. Pink, blues and strong green. The air is warm surrounding us. It’s air and love (love air) everywhere. Nothing hurts. Warm and happy –always young. Miss you Dad, but I’ll see you soon enough. Be nicer to Mom. Try to understand, she feels alone. You don’t, you know I’m here and you feel me…she’s not sure. (This will change significantly in the upcoming year.)
No recall or bad memories about drowning. It’s all warm and good. Just love. Remember the beach, the colors and soft warm breeze (but not a breeze). Don’t be afraid of anything, not health, money, the kids, mom. I’m here, I’m on it. I’m sorry you hurt so bad. But no other way to get out gracefully. You get it, you know, you’ve been there. I love my friends (I told you they were great loving people) They sure came through huh Pop. So, did you.
I’m with you when you golf, that was one thing that was coming together there. No mistakes Pop. Jerry says hi. Say hello to Uncle Mike (Holmberg) for me (he needs it). I’ll help Marcia; she’ll be okay, so will you. This is cool, run with it, don’t doubt. Use Andrews’s pen. Flows like a stream and life. Let’s do this again. Mom is sweet. Went to her for love and you for direction. Both love. Read this later. Feels like a dream huh pop. It’s me. Smiling at you Pop. Hugging you-so close. Forget the date- all the dates. I’m waiting for you Pop. Why are you even questioning? Andrew, Nancine, and Thomas. I talked to you! On the beach in Sarasota, it was me. You knew it then. You were my world Pop. You’re embarrassed to write it but it was true. We’ll be together, just like Scottsdale, just you and me.
Don’t be mad at Scotty. He’s just him. Feel me Pop, around the back of your head and neck- It’s me. I’m crying too. Just glad to be with you. Think about warm every day, like Hawaii. Doing good Pop. Like an angel (like) that’s me. Pop, Nancine was for real. Andrew sees me and the other guys too. I’m here! Mom’s gal saw me, I’m here. The girl on my birthday, well not so much, but she tried.
It’s natural writing not printing. I wasn’t good at cursive! Remember- play place. Fine motor skills no problem now. Stay with me Pop, I’m still here. I was cold, but I wasn’t lonely, I was with my friends. We have good friends Pop! I still do and do here.”
I noticed the time….3:49 a.m. Chris wrapped it up. “I had already crossed fully. Go to bed Pop. I love you. Talk soon.”
Whoa…this was going to take some processing. I turned on the desk lamp and I reread the messages. Was this just my way of dealing with the grief? Was I just trying to make myself feel better and more important to my son who crossed. I didn’t think so. I was also pretty sure I wasn’t doing this for attention. I have subsequently shown these writings to Andrew Anderson, Sheri Jewel and Thomas John, all respected mediums, and they all confirmed they are from Chris. I guess that’s as close to a stamp of approval as you can get in the psychic world.
Let’s look at the message. Chris loved the beach and we shared a love for anything tropical (including umbrella drinks, him not me). We both felt happy in that setting. Chris referred to not having bad memories about the drowning which is the same message that we gratefully heard from mediums. The thought of his last moments has haunted his mother and me. There were a number of things in the message that sounded like me and of course gave me pause. I have also subsequently looked up what was happening, and it had a name. Channel writing. I thought it was automatic writing. However, one of the aspects of automatic writing is that the handwriting is dissimilar. But this was done in my own handwriting., cursive, not printed. (which is a little strange as I usually print because my writing is almost illegible.) This writing is somewhat clear for me. I thought as I wrote this book that what I was experiencing was automatic writing. But as my knowledge of the subject grew I discovered it was really channel or spirit writing. Chris also referred to his own fine motor skills issues, and the play place. This referred to a therapy class for his fine motor skills. Chris had problems with fine motor skills. Although he could throw and catch a baseball, the finer skills such as handwriting were a challenge. I was only there once with him and hadn’t thought of it in 16 years. Now it’s starting to come into focus. He also referred to his friends being great loving people and how they came through. They all did, particularly his NIU classmates who came enmasse to the wake and funeral. They would meet me at his grave and stop by the house for a visit. And he said this, twelve hours before they all showed at his grave for an impromptu celebration of his life on the anniversary of his crossing. He is right; they are great people. One other message that proved accurate was that he told me not to be mad at Scotty, because he was just being himself. This was not a thought that would originate from me. Chris had two distinct group of friends. There were the kids whom he grew up with on the north shore and then, his frat brothers from Northern, whose backgrounds were more diverse. We love them all but have a strong bond and a shared loyalty with those NIU kids. I know they loved and were loved by my boy. In the first year after Chris’ crossing we would attend the Penguin Players Production as we became donors to their cause. They have actually set up a Chris McQuillen Spirit Award & Scholarship for a student mentor in Chris’ honor. On those occasions and at other times, we would stop by the frat house with a couple of cases of Stella on ice and a box of cigars. The boys would all come together and spend an evening with Chris’ family. One night, not long after his passing they held a Rose Ceremony honoring Chris and presenting Sally with a rose. They presented me with a framed Bills Jersey in his favorite number signed by every member of AKL. As I write this book I can see it above my computer screen mounted on my wall. The room where the ceremony was held became the Chris McQ room, with photos and jerseys adorning the walls. (along with Chris’ Buffalo Bills Flag). They moved the pool table up from the basement to this room which was very appropriate since he spent more time playing pool than attending any class. The pool table now has blue and red Buffalo Bills pool balls. After one of these sessions Sally said it was too bad we didn’t have this kind of relationship with these boys while Chris was still on this side. My response was simply that until Chris crossed we were just another pair of parents. Some of Chris’ local pals make it a habit to stop by the house on Thanksgiving, when they’re home from college to crack a cold one and reminisce. God, we love these two groups of kids.
Most of Chris’ AKL pals have moved out of frat house or graduated. We stay close to them but our connection to the frat house itself has faded. In the first year it was a gift to go there and feel him, but the boys moving on from the house gave us closure. Chris’ AKL pals and gals organized a 100-person pub crawl to celebrate his 23rdbirthday on April 15, 2017. I drove to Naperville, where it was being held, to buy a bunch of pitchers, hug and kiss the kids and then swing by his grave to release a Chinese lantern with Sally.
But of course, I have gotten off track. So, when Chris told me to “be nice to Scotty,” I know it didn’t originate with me. Scotty was the young man whose parents owned the lake house where the boys drowned. When I drove up to recover my son on January 3, I was surprised to find the parents weren’t there. Although we were all there for the better part of the day, they never made an appearance. But Chris loved Scotty and Scotty loved Chris. And Chris felt it important that I be prepared to be kind to Scotty and put any resentment aside. Okay, Chris, only for you. Besides when will I ever need to show him kindness? Well flash forward to twelve hours later at his grave. Along with 22 of his friends, Scotty approached me with tears in his eyes. He was there to visit his beloved friend Chris, and I was able to embrace him and, in my heart, forgive him. Chris was right of course. It wasn’t his fault. There was no malice in his broken heart.
When Chris referred to getting out gracefully it struck a chord. It was only after he crossed that his mom and I admitted that we always feared we would only have him for a short time. He had a number of close calls and one, possibly two near death experiences (NDE). I really wished I would have delved more deeply into those with him, but I just assumed it was him going into shock. He did mention a Man in the mine shaft with him. We can now conclude it was his guardian angel. Chris had some issues with depression and we were always worried about that when he drank. I have experienced suicide in my family growing up and it was anything but graceful. It was messy and awkward and painful. Again, I’m not interpreting what he said. I’m just reporting it. You figure it out for yourself. However, I don’t believe we are predestined. I don’t think we are God’s chess pieces. I believe that we have paths to walk that are determined by our free will. We always have choices. I also believe Chris had been given some heavenly hall passes in the past. I don’t know the rules or why he ran out of them. I have been told there are exit points in your life where you can choose to cross. I don’t know how or if that is true. I guess I will know eventually though.
He referred to Scottsdale. I would pick up Chris in Tucson and we would head to a hotel or a resort in Scottsdale. We first did this for Thanksgiving, 2010. We loved spending time together, waking whenever we wanted, eating what we wanted and watching movies when we wanted. It was heaven for me to look over and see my Chris sleeping in the bed next to me. He was warm, safe and happy. Scottsdale trips would later include spring training baseball games, golf and the addition of his brother Will, his Uncle Mike Sawyer and Chris’ beloved girlfriend, Gali. Those days make me smile and keep me going when I’m otherwise stalling out.
He told me to use Andrew’s pen, so let me explain. At a group session at his home Andrew handed me a Bic Velocity pen. I was using it with this conversation with Chris. He told me to use that pen so of course I use it for every channel writing and medium session. Hey, Chris wants me to use the pen and I trust him. He also told me, “You were my world, Pop. You’re embarrassed to write it, but it was the truth.” I can promise you that this didn’t originate with me. But as long as we are on the subject, you were and are my world Christopher.”
So, let’s put this all in the category of, well I guess this isn’t bullshit. How else do you explain it? It was actually the point that cemented the reality of it for me. I now knew this was real and it was a way for me to be able to connect with my son.
On January 16, 2017 I woke up at 3 a.m. and walked to my office. I lit the candle, burned the sage, aligned my chakras and listened to mediation music. I was awaiting a connection. What else could my son tell me? My pen began to write on the legal pad… “Not the right time. Go back to work, Pop. Thanks for doing the wristbands for my friends. I love you too, Pop.”
Was my son blowing me off from another dimension? Well, one thing rings true from mediums about spirits. Their personalities don’t change when they cross. I remember a time when I had booked all of us on a spring break to the Florida Keys. Chris’ friend Jimmy and his dad were going to Mexico, reserving a suite of rooms and traveling on a private jet. They invited Chris to come along. “What do ya think dad? You gotta admit it’s a better offer.” I couldn’t argue with him then, and sure wouldn’t now. If he couldn’t visit with me I can only assume he had a better offer. I can’t help loving that kid. I had wrist bands made for his first golf outing that had “Life is honestly so beautiful….” printed on them, a reference to his saying “Life is honestly so beautiful as long as you allow it to be.” These bands weren’t great quality and the words were not embossed. And they began to rub off. I had them redone and sent to his pals. It was sweet of Chris to thank me. He sure does love his friends.
On Jan 18, 2017 I walked in my office later than usual and began to rush through my ritual.
I picked up my pen and began to write…” This is the time of day for me. Don’t schedule so close Pop. We need more time. You always cut it too close. You don’t need your glasses, it’s not you writing. I loved it when you picked me up. Faith…Believe… I’m here. Remember fishing in Florida. You did that for us…for me. (interestingly enough, the fishing comes up in a future impromptu reading with a medium in November of 2017.) Don’t try so hard; it’s not a trance. It’s just a chat. Missing you too, Pop. No matter what they say. This is our time Pop. Now you know. Get up early for this Pop. Ask Andrew about this. Go to your appointment, Pop. – See you
One thing that stood out with this conversation was that he said he missed me too. “No matter what they say.” I felt this was in response to a question I asked a medium early on after Chris’ crossing. I was told the spirits don’t miss us as we miss them because they are right here all around us. I was also told it’s tough to miss the ones on our side because what they have is so amazing. However, I do believe they miss the contact with us, especially the physical closeness and the hugs for example. I feel Chris misses those as much as I do.
Now, let’s recap. My son who has been pretty strong in coming through with mediums has found a way to slow his energy down enough to contact his cosmic slug of a dad. And although just getting his message on the anniversary of his crossing would have been an amazing gift, it looks as if this could turn into a continuing dialog. What I need to do is enhance this interaction. What can I do to facilitate his contact with me? I actually picked up a book called, Complete Idiot’s Guide to Communicating with Spirits. I kid you not! Repetition helps, but as with golf, repeating a bad swing only “helps get you worse.” I am more than willing to read, listen, and attend lectures with those who do this well and often. In this case I am greedy, and I want more.
On January 22, at 3:45 a.m. Chris came through again. I started going through my pre-game routine (throwback to my locker room days). I had a picture of Chris and me in Iowa after my niece Jaime’s wedding in October 2014. We were standing together at a street fair, shoulders touching, smiling and enjoying the moment. When I began to meditate that morning, I folded the picture in half, so I could concentrate on Chris’ image. He was paying attention. “Keep the picture together pop. Wanted to see if you would get up for this. Thanks pop. Warm and soft, I’m good pop. Miss you. You can feel me around your neck. That’s me. Like when the angels were around you before. It comes from over here to you.”
“It wasn’t a good fit on your side. It is now over here. Been thinking of me when I was little, sure did love you pop. This is me, Andrew will tell you. Thanks for setting this up, it means the world to me. You’re the one pop, always were. Trusted you and knew you were there. Left side is creative side. (don’t over think this) Just talking. All the time in the world. You can keep the notes in your head and your heart if you miss some. Candle… low glow means I’m here. Taking off pop. Cheers. Dumb meditation music sounds like a phone.”
After a session I check to see if my writing is legible and then I go to bed. It usually takes more time than you would think. The next day I reviewed the reading and looked online about the left side creative reference from Chris. I thought he was wrong but according to Google:
The left side of the brain is responsible for controlling the right side of the body. It also performs tasks that have to do with logic, such as in science and mathematics. On the other hand, the right hemisphere coordinates the left side of the body and performs tasks that have do with creativity and the arts.
Chris told me not to overthink it. Of course, I did and of course he was right, again. I loved the fact that he wanted me to unfold the picture, to concentrate on us together. We were always terrific together and it felt good for him to acknowledge that. I always finish with a sense of awareness, a strong sense of his being, followed the next day by flat out missing him terribly.
Let me go into my pregame ritual. It’s not as random as it sounds. It starts with dragging my old body out of bed and into my office. I then turn on a desk lamp; lately it’s a green banker’s lamp that was Christopher’s. Remember my office is in the room that was Chris’ bedroom so there is an amazing amount of good energy flowing in here. I close my laptop to darken the space. I light a few candles. I then light some sage. I always use a sage stick made of California white sage. The reason I use white California sage is because I like it. (I don’t use scented sage for the same reason I don’t drink flavored coffee.) I then spread the smoke in the air with the feather I brought from Tucson. I have pulled out a few pictures of Chris and prop them up so as to concentrate on them during meditation. I make sure that my desk is clear of anything on the writing surface besides my velocity pen and the same brand of white legal pad I get from Staples. All these rituals worked, once, then again and I don’t want to risk breaking a connection. I then pull out a sheet or more precisely a Chakra chart that Andrew gave me, focusing from bottom to top all seven chakras (the focal points in the body used for meditation). I have headphones on my phone and connect to random meditations to contact the other side. I begin the mediation and try to let go. I’m holding a crystal in my hand and have numerous small stones on the front of my desk that I may pick up during any point of the meditation. Lately I’ve begun to sprinkle a small amount of sand from Siesta Key on the legal pad. I generally feel Chris around me before I hear him. Once the meditation music is done, I start getting messages from Chris and I write them down. It’s always the same way. I write in the dark in cursive. When the session is over, I pull out a fine point pen to make notes of clarification. This is actually quite taxing because I am emotionally drained and physically tired. It’s usually well after 4 a.m. by this time. I then shut it down by blowing out candles and turning on lights. I either head back to bed for an hour or so or start the day.
Just a couple of days later, on January 25, we were at it again. “I’m here pop. I like the song. Needed you to wake up. You can’t go in the hole pop. You know better. They need you. See the candle light pop, that’s me. In the car writing the song that was me. We’re already together pop, you know that. Glad you reached out to Maggie, it made me smile. She made me smile, for a while anyhow. Good to feel close and reconnect. Don’t drift off pop. You’re my connection…toughen up…I love you.”
I had the honor of having Joe on my Dec 26th, 2018 https://blogtalkradio.com/starzcast show and it is with that honor I am featuring this for him. Putting this excerpt gave me such a wonderfull feeling as I think his son Chris was watching over me and smiling.
This book will allow you to believe, as I say at the end of my radio shows, "Believe in things you cannot see......they really are there".
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