"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Anthony."

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Anthony.”

I tell people I do readings for, all the time, that something might come up during the session which may not make sense at the time but will later. That’s because the messages I’m passing along typically don’t make any sense to me, and they’re not supposed to. They’re supposed to make sense to the person receiving the messages, and that’s all I care about.

I did a telephone session for two sisters in California, in which their father and the son of one of women, who took his own life, came through. He was fun, full of energy and kept sharing stories that made the three of us laugh. For example, he talked about “stealing a car.” His mother told me, “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When I say he stole a car,” I told her, “I mean he took a car without permission, possibly even your car.”

That’s when she understood what I was talking about. When her son was three years old, he “stole” her car keys off of the dresser and climbed into her car, turned the car on, put it in gear, and the car moved forward, crashing into their house! When she heard the crash and saw the car in the house, she also saw her son, who was still in diapers, smiling and saying, “Look at what I did mommy! Look at what I did!”

Towards the end of the session I told her, “Michael is showing me blue – lots of blue; and blue paint.” Both of the women said that had no idea what I was referring to. “Is someone’s favorite color blue, or did someone paint their walls blue, because I’m also seeing blue paint,” I asked.

“No,” they told me.

A few minutes later, after we hung up, I received a picture on my cell phone. It was a blue bong, with blue paint, and a blue bracelet on the bowl.


I imagined the following conversation taking place after we hung up –

“Blue? Does that mean anything to you, Deb? No? Me neither. By the way, pass the bong over here will you? You know, the blue one… with the blue paint and the blue bracelet.’

Flick. Bubble. Inhale.

“Hmmmm… I wonder why Anthony kept seeing blue, and blue paint during our reading?”


P.S. Here’s the best part – I found out after I wrote this that during the reading the sisters were laughing, crying, and doing bong hits the entire time, off of this bong! When I mentioned the color blue, and the blue paint, they were looking around, saying to each other, “What is blue in here?” There’s a lesson here, I’m just not sure what it is though….

Blue bong