Transition

Good morning.

I am pleased to accept Dream Teller' s invitation to visit with you. While I am blessed with certain 'gifts' considered out of the ordinary, I consider myself a rather ordinary individual. My name is Tori and I recently joined Dream Teller's staff; a move that has brought many changes in my life. I thought perhaps I would take this opportunity to speak to you about
changes, transitions, that many of us face as we traverse our path in this life.

I am a native of Louisiana. I grew up in a small community where virtually everyone knows everyone else. We are known for taking care of our own and so it was that when I and my two siblings were orphaned at early ages, our grandparents took us in. As they grieved the loss of their only child, a daughter (our mother), and our father, who was like a son to them, they showered us with love and guided us with gentle hands through that first difficult transition in our lives. In time we learned to overcome the fears and pain of our loss and because we were so young, we were able to transfer our need for mother and father to our grandparents. Thankfully, they were still young enough and willing to fill that important place in our lives, while maintaining their position as grandparents.

My grandfather was a big, robust man who worked hard and long to provide for us. My grandmother nurtured us at home and at the end of each work/school day, and no matter how tired they were, they made each evening something to look forward to. We sat at the big kitchen table while Grandpa helped us finish our homework and Grandma cooked dinner. Those were some of the happiest times of or lives. But our happiness was shattered yet again when Grandma suddenly fell ill and within a few months was taken from us. For a time we were a family of lost souls but Grandpa rallied and sat us down at the table and outlined the direction our lives were to take.

He gave us the gift that would see us through other transitions; that of charging each of us with responsibility for making the family unit continue to work, successfully. We learned many important things at that great man's knee. We watched him deal with his own loss while he unselfishly helped us deal with ours; taught us to overcome our anger, allowed us our tears while he shed his own, unashamedly, and he kept us to the morals and values he and grandma had instilled in us.

At the age of fifteen my sister became something of a mother figure to her thirteen year old brother and eleven year old sister, me. Once again, our lives settled into order. Each of us learned to carry the household chores, sharing responsibilities with one another and Grandpa. Then lightening struck again. On the eve of our beloved sister's high school graduation she and my brother were driving into town to pick up her graduation gown and cap when they were hit and killed by a drunk driver. I was fourteen years old and my anger and fear became such that I rebelled against God and grandpa; believed that I was being punished for some terrible, unknown sin I must have committed to bring so many tragedies down on myself. I turned inward and no matter what Grandpa said or tried to do to reach me, I refused to let him in. I hated him and I wanted nothing to do with him, and it was much later in my life that I realized my behavior was the product of my fear of losing the only other person in my life.

For two years I managed to make his life a living hell; sneaking out at night, running with the wrong crowd, and generally creating chaos and havoc wherever I went. Grandpa worked tirelessly to bring me under control, but to no avail. When I reached seventeen, I stood toe-to-toe with him and delivered the devastating speech that would finish breaking his heart. I told him I was quitting school and I was pregnant. I will never forget the pain that filled those eyes, nor the tears that overflowed them. It was at that point that Grandpa gave me the biggest gift a man could give his grandchild. He swept me into those strong arms and held me against his chest; refused to let me go when I fought him. He just stood there holding me until I wore myself out. I heaped terrible things upon his head; called him awful names, accused him of being useless, and so on. The gift came in that quiet way of his. As he stroked my head, he whispered to me of the love he had for me and his belief in me; the gift of acceptance. Never once did he blame me for all I'd done.

He charged me with duty and responsibility for my unborn child and promised his continued support and help to see me through the mistakes I'd made. He never once went back on his word; never wavered. Those were hard times in a small community that had all but washed its hands of me. But Grandpa made me stand tall, helped me regain respect for myself, and taught me not to retaliate against those who condemned me for my sins. I went on to complete my high-school education at night school and when I got my GED he was as proud of me as if I had finished school in the traditional manner. But Grandpa wasn't done with me.

Together, we welcomed the birth of my daughter. She was two months old before I finally gave in and told him the name of the father of my child. We decided it best to keep that between us. Since her father was already married, with children of his own, Grandpa believed it best not to break up that family, which it surely would have done. The man was merely a player who'd taken what a lonely, angry girl had offered, and would not have welcomed another child into his life. In short, he was and continues to be an undesirable lot and so we left sleeping dogs lie, so to speak.

About the time that my daughter was three years old (I was a sophmore at college), my grandpa sat me down one night to speak to me about something I'd kept to myself, since childhood, and never knew he even had any idea about. He spoke to me of the 'gifts' that came down through our family on my mother's side, through Grandpa's side; gifts bestowed upon the females, only. You cannot begin to understand my shock at listening to what he had to say, nor the relief I felt at learning that I was not crazy but that I had inherited what was natural in our lineage.

He went on to introduce me to the fact that one of his sisters and her daughters were of the 'gift' and my real education began. I am now twenty-eight years old and comfortable with who I am. My grandpa in now with the rest of our family, and while my daughter and I are the only living members of our line on my father's side, we are safe in the bosom of a remakable family of aunts and cousins on my mother's side. I know I have come full circle and I am already seeing signs that my daughter has inherited the 'gift'.

I no longer fear life's transitions and I am blessed to possess the gift for healing. I am presently working with a Master of the Art of Healing, as well as working with Dream Teller (yes I finished college and hold a MBA, which I put to use in this job). Eventually, I hope to transition from the business end into working with the Council, but there is time for that when my daughter graduates high-school.

I have revealed all of this so that others may see that no matter what life dishes out, one has opportunities to redeem oneself and reclaim control of one's life. Yes, I was blessed to have a support system, and I know that others are not so blessed. But I also know that if one is willing to overcome anger and despair and seek guidance, there are those who will lend a helping hand. I know that because I see it happening, over and over. I watch it on the outside and am watching it from within this tight-knit community of extraordinary beings who have welcomed me and my child with open arms.

In all of my life, I have never witnessed the kind of care and compassion that thrives in the heart of this community. Certainly, it is difficult for most to believe in other Kinds, much less accept that they aren't a danger to Outsiders. I have only recently (the past two years) come to terms with the knowledge that Immortals walk this earth; that all Vampyres and Werewolves aren't the evil creatures they are made out to be; that Witches aren't crazy people looking to destroy humanity.

I have watched many of the afore-mentioned going out of their way to prevent some terrible disaster befalling innocents who have no idea they are being protected; much less that grave danger stalks them. I am privy to the knowledge of great sums of money that leave the pockets of generous individuals who have made it their life's work to provide financial stability for children who lose their families; for individuals who struggle to provide for their children; and to organizations set up for those purposes.

And with all of that, there is the kind of assistance I received. I am not Witch, nor Immortal, but a woman who was struggling to learn all that I could of my 'gift' and how best to use it in a world where I couldn't speak of it, outside of my family. I had come to feel what I had would surely go to waste, for need of secrecy to protect me and my child. As my aunts and cousins had been doing, for the same reason, my sphere in which to render aid was small; limited to those who accept what we are, without question. I had never sought out others outside my family, who might possibly help me hone my skills, for I had no earthly idea where to turn. It was when my tutor and mentor approached me that I learned there are others like me; others with greater skills -Masters and Mistresses of the Art which defies logic and intellect, in ordinary society.

And here, in this society, is where I have found acceptance of who I am and all that has come to pass, for me. While there is no completely safe place for any of us, here is where I feel most safe; where I am allowed to do what I do, where I am constantly learning more and more of the extent of my abilities. Here is wherever I happen to be at a moments notice; wherever I am sent to aid another or others; here, where I now have a job that allows me to support my child and myself in comfortable fashion, while at the same time using my 'gift' as it was meant to be used.

Sounds like the dream of a lifetime but I assure you it is no dream existence. Rather, it is reality with a heavy dose of responsibility thrown into the bargain. Little joy comes from seeing what I see, knowing what I know. No, the scraps of joy come from the doing; saving one not meant to leave this earth at that particular time. Outsiders like yourself might be able to understand if you look upon my work as salvaging a body and mind from the wreck of some heinous destruction. I do not heal what is not meant to be healed, for that is not possible. The Fates predict what is meant, or not, and each of us here must follow that direction. And because we cannot know all, we may be well into an attempted healing before we realize our efforts will be wasted. You cannot begin to understand how it feels to know that a child must be left to die, or an individual we have tirelessly worked on must be allowed to go on to another plane.

I hope I have given you some insight into that other world of which you may continue to believe does not exist. But exist it does, and those of us here will continue to hope that some day in the future, Outsiders will no longer turn a blind eye to the reality; worse, seek to destroy those whom they don't understand. God bless and keep you, Tori.