The First Time I Didn't Turn Away
My very first session
There’s a difference between something happening around you…
and choosing to turn toward it.
For a long time, things had simply happened.
Since as far back as two.
Moments. Feelings. Knowing something without really understanding why.
But this…
this was the first time I didn’t turn away.
—
It was a regular day.
The kids were at school. I was outside in the front yard, gardening. Nothing unusual at all.
I remember being on my knees in the dirt, hands covered, just focused on what I was doing…
when I noticed a man standing off to my left, near the side of the house.
He had a cane.
And he was just… there.
He looked kind.
That’s the first thing I remember.
Not startling. Not overwhelming. Just kind.
He nodded at me, almost like a quiet hello.
And I nodded back.
And then… I kept gardening.
—
But as I moved around the yard, he moved too.
Not in a strange way.
More like someone waiting patiently.
Like he didn’t want to interrupt.
Like he was waiting for permission.
That’s what stayed with me the most.
How polite he was.
—
This went on for a while.
Long enough that I started to realize…
he wasn’t leaving.
And finally, I sat back on my heels, dirt on my hands, probably a little sweaty, and I looked at him and said,
Can I help you?
And he said yes.
—
What came next is always hard to explain.
Because it isn’t like a conversation the way we think of one.
It’s fast.
Very fast.
Like being handed pieces of a puzzle all at once and somehow knowing you’re supposed to put them together in real time.
He gave me just enough.
Not everything.
Just enough to understand that he needed me to reach someone.
A woman.
Someone he loved.
Someone who needed to hear from him.
There was a feeling to it…
not urgency exactly…
but importance.
And kindness.
Always kindness.
—
That night, before band practice, I sent a quick message to my parents and a couple of friends.
Just enough to ask if any of it made sense.
During practice, my phone rang.
It was my stepmom.
She said, I think I know who you’re talking about.
And as she explained, the pieces started to fall into place.
A man.
A motorcycle my father just bought from his estate.
A recent passing.
Something about it all lining up in a way I couldn’t ignore.
—
The next day, I went to my father.
I had never done anything like this before.
Not with someone I didn’t know.
Not like this.
We sat on his front porch, and I told him everything.
I remember him lighting a cigarette, bouncing his knee the way he used to when something big was happening.
Like the time I told him he would be a first-time grandfather.
But of course, this time was very different.
Protective.
He looked at me and said,
Well, Mar… I just don’t want you to be wrong.
And I burst out laughing.
Daddy, I don’t want to be wrong either.
But I could feel it.
Deep.
Like something sitting in my chest that wouldn’t settle until I followed it through.
Like a breath I couldn’t release.
And he looked at me and said,
Okay. Do your best.
And I promised I would.
—
I didn’t call her right away.
Instead, I found her on Facebook and sent her my number.
I think I needed a little space between us.
A moment for it to feel… meant.
And within five minutes, my phone rang.
I remember staring at it.
Shaking.
Actually shaking.
My husband looked at me and nodded, like he knew this mattered.
And I stepped outside onto the deck and answered.
—
What happened next…
was not difficult.
That’s what surprised me the most.
It was easy.
The words came.
The information came.
Gently. Clearly. Kindly.
I told her what I was getting.
She didn’t give me anything.
She just listened.
Cried.
Confirmed.
—
And then, just as we were about to hang up…
I heard him again.
Clear.
Close.
Tell her to wait. I have one more thing.
So I said,
Wait—please don’t hang up. He wants to say one more thing.
And the words came.
I didn’t mean what I said when I left that day.
—
I will never forget what came next.
She didn’t just cry.
She wailed.
And I panicked.
I remember looking up and saying,
What did I do? What did WE do? What did I say? Oh my God…
I thought I had done something wrong.
Something terrible.
—
And then she said,
He told me he wanted a divorce before he left. That’s why everyone thought…
She couldn’t finish the sentence.
But I knew it wasn’t true. I knew it.
—
What she received that day…
wasn’t just a message.
It was relief.
It was truth.
It was a different kind of grief.
One that allowed her—and her family—to begin healing in a way they hadn’t been able to before.
—
When I hung up the phone, I didn’t feel powerful.
I didn’t feel like I had done something extraordinary.
I just felt…
quiet.
Humbled.
And very aware that something had shifted.
—
That was the first time I didn’t turn away.
And the first time I understood…
this wasn’t just something that happened around me.
It was something I was being asked to step into.
—
And now, all these years later…
I find myself back in New York.
In the same region where so many of these moments first began.
This time, not as the girl trying to understand what she was feeling—
but as the woman who learned to trust it.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll be offering a limited number of in-person sessions while I’m here.
If something in you feels drawn… you’ll know where to find me.
With love,
Mary Rose
Just when I think I have a new career plan all figured out, I read one of your emails about mediumship and it all changes. :)
I know you know this, but it doesn't hurt to say it... this work you do changes lives. It's so important! It changed my life when I had my first session with you in September of 2020. I will book a session with you soon so we can catch up!
I also just love to read your emails. You are such a great writer...on top of all of your other awesomeness!
I love these stories.