The Spirits Behind Me

By Jackie DeKemp

Faces and voices, places and events, from the riches of my memories were floating in a soft bubble. Somewhere in my subconscious I knew I was dreaming, but somehow, I didn’t want that bubble to burst. I wanted to spend time with them. I wanted to tell them what has happened here in this world, since they left. I’m sure that’s how everyone feels about his or her loved ones who die …

Judy first sees Grace when she and her daughter attend as audience members of a television show. Grace is the featured guest, a famous seer who—out of all attendees—calls on Judy and begins relaying messages from Judy’s deceased relatives. Judy is so overcome with emotion that she faints, and so begins a friendship brought together by fate.

Both Judy and Grace have been bestowed the gift of clairvoyance. They see and talk to spirits, and they find strength and support. Together, they find excitement, intrigue, and mutual devotion. The people who leave this earth do not leave but forever linger and watch over us. Although these women have lost much, they find hope in this shared truth as they explore the afterlife and grant peace to those in pain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Oct 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9781982213336

Jackie DeKemp

Jackie DeKemp believes in the joy of family, the sincerity in a child’s face, the importance of friends, and in life after death. When she was young, she saw a spirit and prayed it away, which inspired her faith in psychic power. Previously a newspaper columnist, she and her husband have been married for fifty years; she is the mother of five and the nana of ten grandchildren.

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Copyright © 2018 Jackie Dekemp.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1332-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1334-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1333-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018911619

Balboa Press rev. date: 10/09/2018

Contents

Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1 Judy Dominic: Meeting the Spirits behind Me

Chapter 2 Judy Dominic: Family Together

Chapter 3 Judy Meets Grace

Chapter 4 Judy: Spirits in a Bubble

Chapter 5 Grace Tucci: Before She Knew

Chapter 6 Judy Dominic: Crazy, Right?

Chapter 7 Grace Tucci: You Figure It Out

Chapter 8 Judy Dominic: Back in the Blue Green Room

Chapter 9 Grace Tucci: Brown Wooden Wagon

Chapter 10 Judy Dominic: Get Me out of Here

Chapter 11 Grace Tucci: What the Heart Knows

Chapter 12 Judy Dominic: To Judy’s House We Go

Chapter 13 Grace Tucci: Grace Meets Aunt Elizabeth

Chapter 14 Judy Dominick: Home at Last

Chapter 15 Grace Tucci: A Baby in the Snow

Chapter 16 Judy Dominic: Arms around Me

Chapter 17 Grace Tucci: Stranger Spirits

Chapter 18 Judy Dominic: Lost and Found

Chapter 19 Grace Tucci: Wonderland

Chapter 20 Judy Dominic: Two More Spirits

Chapter 21 Grace Tucci: The Looking Glass Technique

Chapter 22 Judy Dominic: Smoking Spirit

Chapter 23 Grace Tucci: Finding Albert

Chapter 24 Judy Dominic: Edge of Silence

Chapter 25 Grace Tucci: I Helped

Chapter 26 Judy Dominic: Sleeping with Angels

Chapter 27 Grace Tucci: Misunderstood Incidents

Chapter 28 Judy Dominic: Hot Summer Day

Chapter 29 Grace Tucci: My Dwelling Place

Chapter 30 Judy Dominic: The Book for My Spirits

Conclusion

Epilogue

Bibliography

A Very Special Thank You

One of the most important things we can give to others is our time. Once we use that time, we cannot get it back, and no one knows how much time we have. That is why I would like to sincerely thank my friend Jeff Dyer for the time he spent editing my book for me. He taught my children English, so I asked him to check my tenses, commas, and spelling and to give me suggestions and guidance. His help was most appreciated. Thank you, Jeff and Janet, for using your time to help me. I love you both and appreciate the times we have shared in our lives. You are both very exceptional friends.

Thank You Too

I did not like to hear it, but I was told that time is running out for me to achieve my number one goal in life. I have hesitated for too long; fear of rejection can do that. That is why I would like to lovingly thank my husband, Richard DeBucci, for gently pushing me forward.

One More Thank You

My world has been filled with memories, good and bad, happy and sad, because of my family. Without family, we lose our foundation. It would be a blessing if each of us appreciated our family members and friends when we have them; unfortunately, it often takes losing them to understand what they mean to us.

To my children and grandchildren, all my family, and friends, thank you for loving me and allowing me to love you. I am blessed.

Preface

Insight comes with age, and I have been on this earth a long time now. I was born the oldest of seven children, which motivated me to love babies and children. They are so innocent, so beautiful, so precious when they arrive here on earth. With God at their side, they begin the journey of life.

I married when I was nineteen and my husband was twenty; we have been married for fifty years.

In August of 1996, I began to write a column for a local newspaper, the Liberty News. The name of the column was Operation Motherhood; you can guess what the column was about. I had five children within seven years, and living with them was interesting and humorous. I enjoyed that column and was very sad when the newspaper ceased publication.

In August of 2013, I began writing another column entitled The Doughnut Hole, in the Postmark. This column was about these golden years, whatever that means. In 2017, the Postmark also ceased publication.

In 2007, I decided to write this book. My dad had just passed away, and I was feeling the weight of all my losses. I could feel them still in my heart.

So I said, Dad, gather up my spirits and help me put a book together.

I sat down and started this book. It sat for many years, and I lost even more people.

My husband, Rich, said, Finish your book now. You’re not getting any younger or something like that), so here it is. Thank you, husband, for the encouragement (I think).

The spirits in this book were inspired by people I have known and lost to the other side. These are those spirits in order with their appearances in this book (not the order of their disappearances from my life). I thank them all for being a part of my life.

I dedicate this book to the spirits behind me (I didn’t use their last names because they know who they are):

Vincent Nicholas

Karen

Nora

Michael

Jamie

Rita Jean

Kelly

Regina

Jack Pershing

Josephine Joan

Kevin Allen

Mary Ann

Barbra (Queenie)

Miss you all.

Introduction

Technologically speaking, our world is full of hard drives, the internet, 4G LTE, 5G, Qualcomm, cell phone tracking, memory, and hacking, to name a few. A few light touches on your cell phone or laptop, and you can be communicating, with pictures and sounds, to someone anywhere in the world.

In the new fiber-optic age, communications are expanding daily. Now we talk to invisible people, just voices; Siri, Alexa, even Google do whatever we ask, and they do it far better than any human. If I need laundry detergent and bleach, or lobster and steak, all I need to do is ask, and it will be shipped to me on the wings of a drone (maybe not yet).

I ask, with the miracle of technology, why can’t we reach our loved ones in the spirit world? Those souls we have loved are with us with each breath we take. It would be fantastic if they could send us a picture via Skype or Facebook so we could see how they were doing, and they could see how we are doing (I’m sure they are doing much better than us). They surround our lives and tiptoe across our minds daily. Sometimes they step on our toes and ring our bells. Did you ever answer the telephone and the other end of the line is silent, and you just know whose spirit it is? No number pops up on the phone, so you know it’s not a telemarketer, and it’s not an optical illusion. You press Accept but hear no sound, just silence. Hello? Hello? Hi? you exclaim. It is the spirit, you know; they want to talk to us but there are no towers where they are; cell phones only belong to this world. You don’t believe it, do you?

This is my story, my Ripley’s Believe It or Not; let’s see if I can make you a believer. This story is fiction, but many of the events are real. In the words of Mark Twain, Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; truth isn’t (Pudd’nhead Wilson’s New Calendar). Impossible events happen all of the time. Truth or fiction: you decide.

1

Judy Dominic: Meeting the Spirits behind Me

Judy stared out the kitchen window, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her again. She heard her name shouted out again this morning, jumped from bed, and ran into every room in the house, looking for someone, anyone, who may have called her name. She found no one and wondered when this madness would stop.

While she made a cup of coffee, she tried to remember the sound of the voice. This time, she couldn’t; sometimes, she at least thought she recognized who it was. It happened more frequently now. Being a spiritual person gave validity to the spirit world for her. Judy had suffered bereavement for many people she cherished and loved. She always felt connected with them. Her body was just a vehicle, and some day, her spirit would move on and be with them. She believed their spirits were hovering about in the next world, just a small galaxy away. Problem was, she was not certain that she wanted them to actually contact her, but they seemed to be deciding for her.

After placing the coffee cup in the kitchen sink, she felt dismayed and went into her bedroom. Time to begin my day, she said out loud, in case a spirit really was around.

She noticed her jeans on the floor, picked them up, and wiggled them over her wide hips; with a small tug, she snapped them. She pushed the closet door open and jerked a pink blouse off the hanger, slowly pulled it over her head, and tugged it down. Her shoes would come later; she preferred to have warm slippers on her always-cold feet. After running a brush through her short hair, she drew on her eyebrows and left the bedroom. It was Friday night, pizza night at her house, and she had some chores to do before everyone arrived.

At five o’clock, Judy began to prepare for pizza night: pizza shells, pizza sauce, cheese all lined up on the counter. As she pulled the pizza pans from the cupboard, a familiar feeling ran across her neck, as if someone took a finger and pulled it from one side of her neck to the other. A shudder rose across her back as goose bumps travelled down her arms. The pans fell to the floor and rolled away, stopping with a big kaboom. Rocky walked in the door just as Judy put her arms around her waist and stood very still, as she waited for her goose bumps to leave.

Rocky was a big man who stepped heavy when he walked; his jeans were covered in dirt and grease, hands grime stained. He walked calmly to the sink, as he does every night to wash the days soil away from his hands. He turned his head and took in the view of the pizza pans on the kitchen floor and shrugged his shoulders, as if this was normal.

No big deal, Judy, he said, unless you tell me the spirits made you do it. I’ll help you pick them up.

Not saying a word, Judy bent down and picked up the pans before Rocky had a chance to help her. She looked confused. She wondered if she should share today’s occurrences with Rocky or not. Putting the pans next to the sink, she walked over to the cupboard to get the vegetable oil for the pizza pans and set the bottle of oil on the counter. She was now operating in automatic drive, trying to prepare for yet another argument. She knew if she told Rocky what she felt on her neck, he wouldn’t believe her; he never did.

I can tell by your face that you have been spooked again, Rocky snapped. I don’t know what to do with you. You’re not yourself lately; you drop things, you stare into space, you’re so jumpy, and I feel you pulling away from me. I know you think my brother or sister or someone from the next world is trying to tell you something, but that’s delusionary. I don’t know what to do with my girl. It’s all in your head; something in you is broken. I want to help fix it, but you need to erase these ideas from your mind. Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me Casper the friendly ghost is your best friend. Spirits are only in cartoons. Grow up, girl.

Rocky turned to the sink and started washing off the pizza pans. Judy grabbed a towel and angrily started to dry them.

Will you give me a break? she snapped. "Do you think I want to feel this way? I swear, sometimes I feel something touching me. I sense that someone is behind me at times and turn around to find no one. No one is there, but a name comes to my mind, and I know who it is. From time to time, I even smell strange perfume; one time, I smelled burnt tires.

I swear I smelled cigarette smoke in your mom’s old bedroom, and she didn’t smoke in the house. Is my nose going bonkers too? I am actually frightened by it all.

She threw the dishtowel at Rocky as tears formed in her eyes.

Rocky grabbed her and, to her surprise, gave her a hug. It only lasted a few seconds, and he let her go and gently pushed her away with his strong arms. He looked her in the face, opened his mouth to speak, but then changed his mind and remained silent. After he let her go, he gave her a devious look and shook his head back and forth in disgust.

I am trying to be patient with you, he said, but I may quit trying soon. I am sick of this.

Turning his back to Judy, he walked to the oven and turned it on; he was the cook on pizza night. Rocky was six feet tall, a rather large man who could be tough as nails and stubborn, but those who loved him knew it was mostly an act. When he put on his I-know-I-am-right armor, there was no penetrating it.

Working in manual labor all his life had made Rocky physically fit. He supported his family with two jobs and never complained. Born the oldest of three children, he has buried his brother and then his sister. He was a survivor who never gave himself permission to be gentle; he couldn’t risk being hurt. His guard was always up.

Judy saw it happen; the raw toughness moved in slowly, and a sadness built up from pain of his loss and the fear of losing another. He was a good man, but he was set in his ways, and life had been cruel to him on many levels. Lately, the friction between them had built to an almost unbearable level.

Judy pulled a chair from the kitchen table and sat down with so much force, the chair slid back. She noticed the look on his face and could see from his movements as he prepared the pizza that he was definitely angry. He was wearing his armor, and Judy didn’t know how to penetrate it. Rocky could not believe her, but she wondered if she’d believe it if it was someone else telling her these crazy things. How could she prove it? How can you make someone believe who isn’t a believer?

Rocky, if you keep slamming things around, you’re going to break the pizza shells, Judy yelled, and we’ll have miniature pizza for supper! I wish you’d just try to understand.

Pizza is ready for the oven, Rocky snapped. "When