Talk to Me by Allison DuBois Page A

self-loathing state, just assumed I wouldn’t have one. I finally had the courage to raise my hand at the very end. I wasn’t chosen; I didn’t know how to feel about that. Then, when I was exiting the auditorium, Mark came running after me and said that Allison wanted to have a few words with me and asked if that was all right. I followed Mark to a room backstage and sat down across from Allison.
    I didn’t know what to expect from a reading. I assumed it might be more vague, but I quickly became certain that Allison was communicating with my son. I won’t go into all the details, but at one point I said I was afraid that Adam might be angry with me or hate me. The response was: He loves me! He wants to be with me, and travel with me, go on road trips with me, and he will even listen to the ‘oldies’ music that I like! I broke down and cried like a baby.
    With that one reading, Allison broke the chains that had kept me in bondage for nearly five years. I literally felt as if I had been born again! I had positive energy and emotion swelling in me like tidal waves, forcing tears to my eyes for days. It was like being catapulted forward from total despair to instantly having a new lease on life. I loved everything: the trees were beautiful, the sky was beautiful, people were beautiful. Most of all, I felt my son and his love! I was like Scrooge on Christmas Day after his reclamation. I didn’t know whether to sing, dance or stand on my head. The following day when I drove home, I learned that it is indeed possible to drive and dance at the same time!
    In the hotel after the reading, I was afraid to go to sleep that night, fearing I’d awake my ‘same old self’. But I woke about six in the morning, still feeling euphoric. I lay in bed for a while, going over the previous evening’s events and trying to get a grip on how happy I was. Every now and then, I had to get up and do a little dance to release some energy. At 6.40, the alarm clock went off. The previous occupant of the room must have left it set. It was on ‘auto’, so the radio came on rather than the alarm. The first thing I heard was ‘I . . . love . . . you’—the same song, at the same chorus, that I heard when I arrived at the hotel.
    I love you, too, son!
    A BELOVED DAUGHTER’S SUDDEN DEATH
    I want to introduce you to Joni’s daughter, Kelly. Like Scott’s son, she was an adult when she passed, but both stories show that a child’s age is irrelevant, because to a parent our children are always the little buddy who wrapped their tiny arms around our neck and thought we were heroes. They are the babies who need us because we loved them first, and we are their home.
    It is very rare that I do private in-person readings, because my schedule is dicey and can change at a moment’s notice. I would feel terrible if someone got their hopes up about seeing me and then I was called away on business. Often my clients travel from far away, and that can be inconvenient for them as well, so I try to stick with my event readings and phone readings.
    I cleared my schedule for September to do phone readings and be at home for the month, since I would be in Australia for much of December, away from my husband and our girls. My manager, Mark, asked what day, if any, I was available to do in-person readings, and I told him the tenth would be good. I go by feeling when picking dates; I let the deceased guide me and the dates they give me always end up being important to the person being read. Anyway, my schedule was set, and Joni and Ron were booked for an appointment with me.
    When I met Joni and Ron they appeared nervous, understandably so, but both seemed to be good-hearted, good-natured folks. As I began to scribble on my notepad, I felt ‘connected’ to their daughter Kelly, and I began to write down what she was telling me and convey what she was feeling. Without going into every