Honeysuckle

By JP Bee

People should ask the question of why. As children, they use their imagination and can become anything thing they want until they are told they can’t. They can conform to the thinking of the masses or they can dare explore a different reality that is not accepted by most. This book is that journey,” JP Bee states.

In “Honeysuckle” (published by Xlibris), she tells a story about Augusta, a girl exploring a different reality. The loss of early-childhood memories sparks and restarts a journey that opens the doors to hidden secrets along with passions, wisdom and adventures, including astral projection, the ah-ha sense of the moment of time, spiritual activity, gifts and the prompting of subjects, regeneration and recreation of time.

“This is a unique and creative story that is meant to be entertaining; it might help people answer many questions about what if?” the author says. “Dealing with the pain of losing someone or facing one's own death can be eased. They can find a reason why things are the way they are and can stop dwelling on why this happened to them, why they have to feel pain, and what is their possible purpose in life.”

When asked what she wants readers to take away from her writing of the book, the author replies, “Anything is possible, even knowing more about the taboo world of the paranormal, the ghost that haunts you, and the supernatural power we all have inside us but have over eons of time forgotten. You just have to be willing to pay the price for this knowledge living and thinking outside the box. Everything you ever wanted to know, everywhere you ever wanted to go and every person that enters and passes through your life is placed there for you or by you to experience and learn from. All you need to do is open your eyes, your heart, and your mind to other truths and possibilities.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664128477

JP Bee

JP Bee was born and raised in New England and now resides in Costa Rica, where she was finally able to complete “Honeysuckle” after 30 years of an ongoing story written in fiction but based around real life experiences. This first book is the baseline for additional possibilities.

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 by JP Bee.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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.

Rev. date: 09/04/2020

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

818254

CONTENTS

Prologue

Introduction

Chapter 1 The Basics

Chapter 2 The Lost Years

Chapter 3 You Can’t Go Home

Chapter 4 In Her Own Words: Memories Intact

Chapter 5 Flashback: Relationships

Chapter 6 The Other Side

Chapter 7 I’m Here: The Seventh Day of My Rebirth

Chapter 8 The Move

Chapter 9 Florida Life and the Face of Death

Chapter 10 The Rolling Hills (2000)

Chapter 11 Moving In

Chapter 12 Reincarnation

Chapter 13 Levels

Chapter 14 Luke’s First Visit

Chapter 15 Open and Closed Minds

Chapter 16 My First Winter Back

Chapter 17 Questions and Answers

Chapter 18 Living Alone

Chapter 19 Ghost Busters

Chapter 20 Revelation

Chapter 21 Costa Rica

Prologue

This book is intended to be entertaining with the possibility of exploring a different reality. It’s the story of Augusta’s life and death experience. It is not intended to disprove or prove any truth—just a possible revelation of something different. The events in this book occurred over this person’s lifetime. It is written in the third and first person. The third person is used when her story is being told based on personal diaries, journals, and other people’s memories of the events. The first person is when the memories are her own. The loss of early-childhood memories sparks and restarts a journey that opens the doors to hidden secrets along with passions, wisdom, and adventures, including astral projection, the ah-ha sense of the moment of time, spiritual activity, gifts, and the prompting of subjects, regeneration, and recreation of time.

The contents are not meant to attack anyone’s religious or social beliefs and are not open to confrontation.

Introduction

Augusta grew up in a small suburban town in Connecticut. Raised as a strict Catholic, she was a middle child with two older sisters, one younger sister, and a brother. Augusta had a life full of structure. There was no boredom though she could not truthfully say that she could remember much about her life experiences since her car accident in 1989. The doctors clarified that due to a lack of oxygen in her brain, the head trauma she suffered destroyed a lot of her childhood memories; they were either lost or temporarily dormant.

She did have some memories, but the ones she was allowed to keep seemed to be left with her because they were to play a significant role in years to come. People and events she remembered were to be a part of her life and would be there for her to help or for them to assist her; all other people or incidents in Augusta’s life that crossed her path or had no role in her future were, for the most part, forgotten and gone. Her immediate family did their best to fill in the empty years with memories as they knew them to be true. They also had a twisted sense of humor, making light of the situation. Augusta kept diaries and daily journals with exposed truths and secrets. If she believed everything her family told her to be accurate, she was born in a cabbage patch field, and her parents thought she was cute and different and felt a little sorry for her, so they decided to adopt Augusta and raise her as one of their own. They said that is why all her sisters had light hair, turned-up noses, and deep-blue eyes whereas Augusta had very dark brown hair with soft banana curls and hazel-green eyes. She might have believed them, but eventually, right after her sixth birthday, a baby brother, Joe, was born who had all the same physical characteristics that she did. They just took after her father’s, Peter, Italian side of the family whereas her sisters leaned more toward the redheaded Irish side of her mother’s, Carol, family.

Chapter 1

The Basics

When describing or introducing her children, her mother would get to her and say, And then there is Augusta who we love dearly. She is a delightful child who tends to live in her world and march to her own music. If there is no music, she will sing and make her own. She has given us many challenges in life, and we are sure she will continue to make life interesting to all who are fortunate enough to be a part of her life.

Augusta guessed they were trying to compliment her with a little sidestep.

She would tell people that she never took her family’s introduction offensively because they loved her and she was very comfortable with being different. She still could live among society, and she was even accepted by most. If someone did not like her but had no real reason not to, she felt a little sorry for them, for life was supposed to be lived and enjoyed, to learn and experience all the things and people that cross your path no matter how different they are from the norm or you. She believed you could learn something from everything and anyone no matter where they came from or how much education they did or didn’t have because it is not by chance that you meet and remember everyone or anyone in your life. It is for a reason. Stop, listen, and learn.

Augusta relied on dreams and her sense of déjà vu to feel like she belonged to the rest of the world. After the automobile accident she suffered, Augusta made it her personal goal not to accept things at face value any longer. Just because she had been told or taught that something was right didn’t necessarily mean it was or that it was the only truth. There can be many truths because the truth is in the person’s perception. One hundred people can experience the same thing. Those 100 people could have different reactions depending on their knowledge and experiences. Thus, there are 100 different variations of the truth, and there is nothing sadder than a person genuinely believing that their way is the only way that everyone should think and be like them. She figured it made them feel safer and reassured them; they don’t have to question themselves and the way they live their lives, and they don’t have to worry that they might be wrong and have to change themselves. What a boring world we would live in if this were the case. Wars are started this way between nations and hate crimes run amuck. Religions divide, and judgment comes.

Augusta was like a newborn baby in her late twenties and early thirties. The few memories she was allowed to keep now had meaning after this. Everything happens for a reason, and she was about to find out why.

Her family could have taken this rare opportunity to remold her in many ways. Augusta knew they would never do that, and she guessed her original personality and what made her Augusta was still residing there deep inside.

She would remind people that the car accident in her life was horrible, but she thanked God every day that she was lucky enough to have experienced it. She would say, I received a rare and valuable gift—the gift of sight and a new outlook on life—and like most gifts, they sometimes have to come with a price.

Very Early Years

Augusta did not have much to tell about her sibling years of interest because she just doesn’t remember. She does remember not liking to go to bed; she was afraid she was going to miss something. Her brain would jump and wander, making drifting off to sleep a challenging undertaking. She would meditate. Of course, back then and being only a toddler who did not know what she was doing, she certainly didn’t realize it was called meditation. She would not only meditate, but she would also go on journeys to all the places you would believe a small child would want to go and see. She remembers beautiful meadows filled with colorful flowers and rooms full of brightly colored balloons. She would fly in the sky over fields and rivers, gliding down to perch on treetops to gaze over the world. These were places she could visit only in her private world. She was never alone; she had a babysitter with her every time. She never told anyone back then that she would have these journeys and experiences. She was afraid they would say to her she was wrong or evil and try to make her stop; oh, how wonderful it was—it could not be wrong.

iStock-501786084%20girl%20flying%20through%20field%20inside%20book.s.jpg

Her parents told her that they had to sleep with one eye open and both ears alert. As soon as she was old enough to walk, they would find her wandering around the house talking to someone or something several times a week. They said her little hand and arm stretched upward as if someone was holding it and leading her around.

Augusta could not articulate very well being so young, but they knew she was having a conversation with someone, giving short answers of yes, no, I don’t, I won’t go, Don’t wake Mommy! Once they found her wandering around the front yard. Carol said, Peter, how did she get out there? She is too small to have opened that door by herself, and is this the first time or has she had done it before?

I don’t know, Carol, but let’s put a lock across the very top of the door, so even if she stood on a chair, she would not be able to reach it to let herself out.

This sleepwalking, as they called it, went on for years, and they would just lead her back to bed. Her mother would ask her where she was going, and Augusta would say, Home.

You are home, Augusta.

No, my other home, I like the smell of the flowers. See you, she would say to her invisible companion and fall back to sleep. Funny, Augusta did have a vague memory of an angel she named Jonathan who taught her to fly to those beautiful places she used to visit, and sometimes he would go with her on her journeys and keep her safe.

iStock-951128876%20Little%20Girl%20Reaching%20inside%20Book.s.jpg

Teenage Years: The Tarot Cards

During her teenage years, she went through every day in a pretty standard way. She had to assume this was so because no one had mentioned anything outrageous or mind-boggling happening—just all the usual young teenager-type stuff one would expect a rebellious adolescent to encounter until she reached the age of sixteen.

Augusta had a sweetheart during her high school years. His name was Weiss. He had an older sister named Joan who frequented an elderly German woman who subsidized her social security checks with a little Tarot card, palm, and tea-leaf reading. She did not advertise the business, and it was strictly word of mouth, and from what was known, she was very sought after and had an outstanding reputation. It seemed that at the end of one of Joan’s readings, the older woman told her to please bring the girl with the long brown hair to her very soon; she needed to speak to her. When Joan asked which friend, the woman just repeated in a trancelike voice, Bring the one with long brown hair. She is very close to you.

Thinking of several possible candidates, Joan started to bring them by to meet the older woman who opened the old apartment door every time, saying, No! That is not the one.

Joan then came to Augusta. I have to bring you to meet my fortune teller this week. She has been asking me to bring her someone that matches your description, and you’re the last one left, and she seems so desperate. Will you come with me?

Augusta was curious to know if she indeed was the one the older woman needed to see. She, of course, agreed to go and wanted to do so immediately. They drove up to the apartment complex, and as they turned into the driveway, the German woman named Hilda was shuffling out to meet them. She moved quite fast for a woman of her advanced age with her slippers and stockinged feet, and she had such a look of relief on her face when she approached Augusta’s side of the car. My dear! Come in. Come in. I have been waiting for you. Joan, could you please come back in about one hour to pick up your friend? I would like to be alone with her if that is all right.

Joan looked puzzled but pleased with herself that she was able to complete the task that her old friend had requested of her. Augusta was just a bit scared, very curious, and worried about the woman wanted with her.

They entered the house, and it was not what one would expect at all. The walls were dark with very few knickknacks scattered around like you would expect to see in a grandma’s house. The bargain basement furniture inside filled the rooms sparingly. Hilda led Augusta into her bedroom to a small bare card table. The room was filled with vases of honeysuckle flowers scattered around, and the scent filled the room. She reached over the table and grasped both her hands in hers. Don’t look so frightened, my child. I will not hurt you. When you leave, please take some flowers with you as they belong to you.

Her accent was so thick that Augusta thought she might have a hard time understanding what it was she wanted to tell her. She said nothing, just listened.

Hilda immediately reached for her deck of cards. Augusta never saw a card deck like these before; these cards were ancient and worn. Hilda immediately asked Augusta to handle the cards for a while. She said she would do a standard reading for her just to give some helpful information and to help her relax. She said she did not need to read the cards to know the reason she was there. You have the gift as I suspect. So does your mother and hers before, and as I do, my child, and your life will be full of questions and answers unlike any others. You have something calling you. You should listen.

In her reading to Augusta, she said some things that were related to her family and future career. She told her that she would not end up with her current boyfriend, Weiss; she didn’t’ even flinch or try to console Augusta in any way even when it was apparent that the news of not being with him bothered Augusta immensely. It was just a matter of fact. Hilda chuckled and said, Believe me, child—your path of life has no place for this young man. His purpose here is not yours, and it is just not in the cards.

iStock-898278456%20Tarot%20Cards%20Inside%20Book.s.jpg

The standard reading was over. Hilda gathered the cards together and pushed them across the table to Augusta and placed both her hands over them. I am supposed to pass these cards on to you. I have to go on a trip soon, but I could not leave until I found you. You may not know what to do with the cards right now or even understand anything to do with this visit today, but you will someday, and they will be one of your learning experiences. Take the cards and keep them wrapped in a dark silk scarf, and someday you will know when to take them out and when to put them away and discover some of your gifts. Don’t let the people who do not understand you keep you silent. Go now. I am tired, and Joan has come back to get you.

How she knew that was a mystery to Augusta because she was facing the window that viewed the driveway. Hilda’s back was to it, and you could not hear the sound of the motor through the concrete walls.

Augusta, don’t worry about all the little things that will seem to hurt you over the years to come. They have their own meaning. Don’t waste your time or energy on them when you have much more critical and fantastic tasks to face. It is your choice to take this information with you. How you handle the adventures to come is all up to you. Nothing is expected or written in stone. You do have the free will to choose and find your own way.

A week later, Hilda died, and Augusta put those cards away. She put them where she knew they would be safe. Augusta wondered if that was what Hilda meant by having to go on a trip. Was she going on a one-way trip?

Augusta did break up with her boyfriend Weiss a few years later, and it was her doing. She woke up one morning and was not at all satisfied with the practical life she would be living if she stayed with him. He was in love and only one year out of high school himself and was ready to ask her to marry him soon after her own graduation. She just felt no emotion for the relationship anymore and was restless and had so much she wanted and needed to do. If she stayed with him, Augusta knew she would stay content and would not search for any other possibilities. Augusta believes she broke his heart for a long time. Much later in life, she felt the pain he felt when he had a chance to break her heart, but it was one of the things she was supposed to experience and learn. Today he is thrilled, happy, and thriving with a family of his own and lives and works in the area where he grew up.

Chapter 2

The Lost Years

This time was one of the most robust memories Augusta had lost. She verified most of the events through her friends and family and in the extensive journals she always kept. Augusta left home in the summer of 1974, seeking independence at the age of eighteen, and had a couple of small apartments shared with some friends. Augusta became distant from her family and was lost and confused like you would think most young adults were, but she knew things that one should not have any reason to know. She stayed close to her younger sister, Beth, who told her that she was so afraid to get close to anyone because she would know things about them, like if they were going to die shortly or if someone was dangerous or evil. Almost everyone had a secret plan when they acted like they were your friends.

Augusta had a tough time with love relationships because most bored her to death. Her partners were like an open book, and she intimidated them to no end. The only young men who stayed around were usually brilliant bad boys who found her to be a challenge. She saw people in the form of energy, and it was either a warm or cold energy that would attach to her or draw the life from her. She could not stay in a room with certain people. She would just get up and leave, not offering any explanation and in a seemingly rude manner. Her sister knew what she was doing and why, and she knew it didn’t faze Augusta in the least. If she did need to exit, it most likely meant that others should also exit because they were in the company of either evil or negative energy that was looking for a life light as Augusta would explain it.

It was during this period that she met Ed. He was the person she allowed to drain her energy over and over again. He was the one who offered and gave Augusta many of the things that she desired. It was like they had a heroin addiction to each other. They were both trying to break apart over the years but still found their way back to each other as though they had no say in the matter. Ed attacked anyone who seemed to get too close. For many years, he would stay within draining (energy) distance, but he knew his time with her was limited, and he often reminded Augusta that she knew he was a terrible person, and it was her choice to stay with him.

Ed called her a witch, the sweetest and most terrifying girl he’d ever met. They had an on-and-off relationship for years before the learning process, and the reason for having him in her life and Augusta in his had come full circle, and he was