A Love Seat, A Cowboy, Medium Marion & Patti Palmalooch

A little Soul(s) for Sunday

Marion McGarry aka Mamou McGarry, Medium/Spiritual Healer, came into my life two years ago via a love seat attached to an ulterior motive. When Marion gives readings from “spirit,” it’s very common that she won’t remember what she’s said since it is coming from “spirit.”  So, when she doesn’t recall some of this and will call me out on it, I have my  CYA (cover your ass) notes (naturally) in emails, all dated.  The timeline was as such to simplify the start of the adventure with meeting Marion, Spiritual Healer:

• On Thursday, November 14, 2013, I hosted a Connecticut medium to my home for a group of close friends and relatives.
• Marion had been to my friend, Patti’s, tag sale on Saturday, November 16, and inquired about a love seat for sale. She left her phone number if it didn’t sell to negotiate a price.  Patti never called her.
• On Monday, November 18, Marion was in a whole other part of another town when she felt like she needed to go back to Patti’s house because Patti was struggling with something.  Mind you, she never met Patti the day of the tag sale.  When she pulled up, Patti just happened to be outside throwing stuff in a dumpster. When the two of them entered the house, she tells Patti she’s doing the right thing, she is surrounded by people who are supporting her, a new beginning, everything will work out, blah blah blah.  Patti asks her if she’s a medium.  Marion answered, “I’m an intuitive healer.” Then Marion began telling Patti there was a spirit with her always, a man in a red shirt and a big belt.  Patti had just heard those same words at my house 4 days earlier by another Medium.

I had booked a well-known CT medium to do readings at my house six months in advance.  I handpicked a group of very close friends and relatives due to the sensitive nature of some life events.  I was a big fan of this medium when I met her the year before at a house reading.  She was very real, right on point for everyone in the room, and it was a large group so I was impressed.  Then a friend of mine bought us tickets to see her at the Ridgefield Playhouse just a few days before she was to come to my home.  The soccer Mom with the leggings and boots from a year prior had morphed into a slightly scaled back version of the T.V. Long Island Medium, Theresa.  She had on a gold lame dress, pumps, high hair, and I immediately got bad vibes.  We had third row seats, and I had anxiety.  I’m sure some people got a reading that night, but I was more fixated on how she was reaching, asking more questions then getting affirmations.  Turns out, I was sitting next to one of her closest friends who must’ve read my body language and turned to me when it was over and made a comment about their friendship and this CT Medium was the real deal.  I knew she was the real deal, I just didn’t like the newly acquired GO BIG OR GO HOME persona.  It left a bad taste in my mouth, and I was put off.

Me and the CT Medium had been emailing back and forth during those six months because I had originally contacted her with hope she would squeeze in a session with my co-worker/friend and his wife after the premature death of their teenage daughter.  Most people send sympathy cards, flowers, or a cold cut platter, but not me….I book you a medium.  I had also put another dear friend in touch with her who had lost her son.  Both had incredible readings with her, and I was so grateful to this woman for giving them something to help them make it through at least that one day because no one rebounds after losing a child.  I hesitated emailing her after her Ridgefield Playhouse performance because these mediums can pick up a vibe, and my vibes on her weren’t good.  I needed to give her directions to my house, and iron out some last-minute details of set up, but I was procrastinating in sending an email knowing she’d pick up on my feelings.

She arrived at my home and went straight to the queen chair I set up for her, all while introducing herself telling my group she would be performing at Mohegan Sun, the Ridgefield Playhouse, yada yada.  That intro was a turn off because now it’s become a public relations pitch versus bringing some healing to people.  I shut the shutters on any chance of getting a reading that night, but it wasn’t about me anyway.  I hosted it for those who trekked in from all over the tri-state area for this night.

I will say this for her – just about everyone got a reading including my daughter’s friend who was driving around the block for an hour waiting for it to end because unbeknownst to me she didn’t have the $75 fee.  Had I known that, I would’ve certainly paid for her because her Dad came through with a message.  I am also certain my visiting medium wouldn’t have let the broke 19-year-old slide on payment since she had scanned and deposited all the checks by the crack ass of dawn the next day.  She made approximately $1,300 in two hours.  That doesn’t suck.

My daughters, nieces, and I all convened the next morning over breakfast and I voiced my disappointment over the self publicity of our visiting Medium, and my daughters thought I was being too harsh.  Harsh or not, I just felt like if you have been blessed with a gift to help people, you don’t capitalize on it.

Then the universe made this happen on Monday:

• Patti calls me crazy excited about this little Medium Marion who showed up out of the blue for the love seat, and recounts the entire visit they had.
• I told Patti to just give the woman the F’ing love seat and whatever else she wanted, and to my delight, the love seat wouldn’t fit in her Subaru so I told Patti I would personally deliver it her.  I cannot begin to describe the gravitational pull I had to meet this Marion.
• Patti sets it up for Friday after work and we load my CRV with the love seat, a wing chair and Lord knows what else and go to Marion’s house.
• We offload the furniture, and I admit to Marion I had an ulterior motive so she invites us to sit down at her kitchen table.  She looks at me and asks, “Who’s John?”  Without waiting for an answer she tells me a story about a man who had lost his son.  She told the grieving Father that his son had died because of his heart and the man told her she was wrong because his son had been in a car accident.  The man contacted her after the autopsy came back and told her she was right because the impact of the airbag to his son’s chest had stopped his heart.  After she tells me this,  she asks me again, “Who’s John?” Then Marion herself begins to clutch her heart telling me it’s so heavy, she’s having a hard time breathing, and feels such overwhelming sadness.  I told her that John was a co-worker whose daughter had passed away in her sleep a few months prior, and Marion told me it was because of her heart.  Correct.
• Then Marion moved onto Patti.  Patti and her impending move across the country, her cowboy, her red lighter.  I explained why Patti and I had been estranged for a year.  Patti’s explained her finances were a big concern and said, “It’s gonna kill me.” Marion told her to start thinking positive because whatever energy we put out, is what we get back. Patti mentions she can sell some of her jewelry to make ends meet until her move, and talked about a gem ring that was MIA for years that would’ve brought in some money to see her through.

A few days later while Patti was packing up 30 years of her life, she found this jewelry box buried in a drawer with angel wings, a cowboy boot and of course the ring she thought was long gone.

Patti is now tucked away on the spiritual land of New Mexico, yet I often give her unsolicited advice that she belongs near water, but this is her journey, and I’ve learned to respect we are all responsible for our own journey.  Marion McGarry – I could and would like to write a book about her incredible life. It’s been two years since we’ve met, yet our lives mirror each other on numerous levels.  The second I mention her name to someone, I get a text from her.  If I have anxiety, I’ll get a call or text, “What’s going on with you, you’re walking back and forth in my head.” I joke with her lovingly  a lot, “Marion, get out of my head.”

Because the universe lines things up just so, I met an “Intuitive Healer” who lives in a little brick front house, who doesn’t capitalize on her gift, who believes she is cared for by the universe because when she gives of herself, she receives in return right down to used air conditioners and cars.

I have at least another 2 dozen stories about Marion, but in the mean time, please feel free to get acquainted with Marion’s work from her website.  You may reach out if you need some spiritual healing as well!

http://www.marionmcgarry.com/about-marion.html