OK, a LONG overdue post (in general, too) about last month’s Theresa Caputo event down in Eugene. If you aren’t familiar, she’s the star of Long Island Medium, which airs on TLC. Yes, she’s a medium who talks to the dead. Think what you want, believe what you will, but just know I have complete and utter faith in this phenomenon. In fact, I admire and envy it.
Before you read what I experienced, watch this if you have no background on Theresa:
June 7, 2015
Friday night, seeing Theresa Caputo was incredible and more than I could have ever imagined. There were way more people than I expected, about 4000 I think. As I looked around waiting for Theresa to come out on stage, it hit me that we were all there because we had lost someone; every single one of us. I had had a massive headache all that day, and from the moment I walked into the arena, I felt it pounding harder. I knew it wouldn’t leave until after the event was over.
The first person Theresa spoke to was an older woman, maybe 50s, who had lost her son. Her son was speaking to her through Theresa, just to clarify for you guys. He basically gave this woman the reassurance/closure she had been waiting for. She began crying immediately when Theresa asked her questions about her son only she knew. And when she started crying, everyone else began crying with her. I could see hands going up to faces every other minute to wipe tears away, and hear sniffling echoing throughout the arena. I felt that lump in my throat we only feel when the tears are becoming too much to hold back. But I didn’t want to be a sobbing mess, so somehow I kept it together. Even though my reason for being there was my Gramma, I focused on every thing BUT her in order not to fall apart.
There were several people whose stories stuck out to me. A woman and her three young children heard from their husband/dad. Friday was National Donut Day, which was something the kids did with their dad (Donuts for Dad is what they called it). The dad spoke and apologized for not being there for it. Apparently it was the family’s thing. The dad would drop off donuts (for the kids) and coffee (for the mom) on his way to work… They were his thing. And to see the kids fall apart at the things Theresa knew? Wow. She asked if they had seen a dark shadow in their house and, in fact, the young boy (about 12 years old) had. He confessed he had seen something in the hallway but didn’t know what it was. Theresa said, “just know that that is your father.” Man, tears again!
One woman confessed to Theresa that she had had two miscarriages in the last year and was afraid, waiting, to lose this one… That prompted Theresa to ask if she was pregnant currently, to which she said yes, about six months along. It was this woman’s mother who chose to reassure her that she wouldn’t lose this one too. I was blown away (again and again) that just by looking at this woman, you would never know she was afraid of losing her baby when it was that far along, past the possibility of losing it spontaneously.
As I was listening to all these stories, I just couldn’t help but think “when is it my turn? Come on, Gran, come over here…” Each time Theresa was finished speaking with someone and was being drawn somewhere else, my heart began pounding, hoping it was my turn. And then of course I realized how selfish I was being… wanting to take time away from others who needed to hear from their loved ones. Katie, my roommate, said later that it was the ones who “needed” it that heard from loved ones. But you know, I think everyone needed/needs that. A lot of us want closure, including myself. I was never 100% comfortable with how I left things with Gran, and I feel horrible about it. It would’ve been a weight off to know she knows how much I love her.
Something Theresa said before she began communicating was that if any of us heard something being told to someone else that was even remotely something we could connect to, we should take it as a sign. She said the way it works is that the spirits work together to give power and energy to whichever spirit is speaking. Isn’t that a neat thought?
This post isn’t to convince anyone that mediums are the real thing. You’re gonna think what you want no matter what I say. I guess it’s just to share my experience. At the very beginning of the event, Theresa acknowledged that there were probably a lot of people in the audience that thought “this is a load of bullshit,” to which everyone laughed nervously. She made light of it, but then said she really didn’t care if we believed or not. The thing is, after having gone to see her in person, how could someone NOT believe she’s the real deal? How else would she know intimate things about a person?
I didn’t hear from my gran, no. But I did hear Theresa ask a few people if they were wearing a certain necklace or bracelet… which translated to me as a sign. I had worn my Gran’s and Great-Gran’s bracelets, and my Gran’s necklace. For me, it’s comforting to wear something they wore themselves. And in her shows, many people wear articles of lost loved ones.
No matter how much we all like to think we’re different from each other, the truth is, besides the fact that we are all human (duh) and live on Earth (duh duh), we have something else in common. We want to secretly believe in something greater. And many of us want to believe in something BEYOND our current state of life. If the law of conservation of energy is real, and energy can neither be created nor destroyed, then where does it go? It has to transform into something. Why not believe it transforms into an after life? I would much rather believe that and that I have angels looking over me, than believe life just ends. Perhaps if I were more scientific and practical, for lack of a better word, I might believe otherwise. But for me, the thing science is missing… is wonder and imagination. Humans naturally want to draw comfort and faith from wherever and whatever they can… so why should belief in an afterlife be any different?
Is the fact that I didn’t hear from my Gran signifying that she’s already moved on to a new life? I don’t know. Maybe. But I’m not going to discount any theories or possibilities. It’s nice to feel she’s still around, that her spirit is in everything she loved. Because now, more than before when she was still living, a goat isn’t just a goat. And the smell of a barn isn’t just the smell of a barn. And lemon drops aren’t just lemon drops. They’re my Gran. And that is something special.