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Honoring Veterans Day

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Greater love has no one than this that he lay down his life for his friends. American Heroes-Thank you for your sacrifice!

No matter what country you live in it seems that War is the common denominator of civilizations. More than history books people’s personal stories captures the essence of wars and transmits emotional legacies to succeeding generations.

For me Veterans Day always reminds me of my father who served in World War Two in the South Pacific.  He was a sergeant in the army.  On one mission his entire platoon was killed and he was shot repeatedly, but played dead and was the only survivor of his platoon. He received The Purple Heart and he was given only six months to live because of his injuries.  Being the amazing man that he was he survived and lived many decades beyond the war.  It never left his heart and soul.  He always displayed the flag on national holidays and was proud to be an American.

I think of the young men of my generation that served in Vietnam.  So many did not come back and those that did were never the same.  These young men did what they had to do, and unfortunately were not treated with great respect when they returned home.  So many suffered and still do from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.  Back then it was not recognized and now these older men are still living with the effects of the war.

I pray for all Troops that serve our country worldwide today.  I pray for their families that support and worry about them.  I pray for their protection physically and mentally.

Most importantly I pray that there be no more wars!

Many blessings,
Cherokee Billie

CherokeeBillieSpiritualAdvisor.com

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My Father’s 98Th Birthday

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I wrote a tribute on Father’s Day to my father, well today June 26 is his birthday. This year he would have been 98 years old. I cannot begin to imagine him at that age. The last fifteen years of his life was hard on him as he suffered from Parkinson’s disease. I watched him go down bit by bit and it was rough as he had always been such a strong, intelligent, and powerful man.

At the age of 76 he could not do anything for himself anymore.  Thanksgiving weekend 1994 he ended up in the hospital and collapsed into a coma within hours.  This is where my biggest spiritual learning came into place.

He was comatose and I knew that he had a great fear of dying. What I did was put myself in a hypnotic state and I projected myself to his hospital room and there I took his spirit and we traveled to the other side (the fifth dimension). I had never done this before in my life, but I was desperate for him to be able to pass and not be kept alive on machines

I figured my mother would be the first one to greet him as she passed away several years before. Surprisingly the person that greeted my father on the other side was his army sergeant who had been killed in World War Two. My father was so happy to see him again. I waited at the entrance and my father went and visited so many people that he loved and loved him. I could hear him and the others laughing and talking.  When he was finished he came to me and we transported back into his hospital room and he went back into his body.  The next day he died. I knew that he died without fear.

The following morning as I awoke my father was screaming into my right ear everything he wanted me to know. I woke up saying, “Dad, you’re hurting my ear. Stop talking so loud.” I then did my best to remember exactly what he had been saying. It amazed me. I had never had such a spiritual connection in my life. Over the next few days he appeared to me, each time with a message. Throughout the years he has continued to communicate and on rare occasions I have been able to see him. It’s absolutely fascinating. He’s definitely my main Spirit Guide.

So not only did my father teach me so much when he was living, but he taught me a great deal after he died.  So I attribute my spiritual abilities as being inherited from him.

Last year when my precious cat Isis passed, I followed her through to the other side, and saw her at the rainbow bridge and on the other side was my father. She ran to him and he picked her up and held her in his arms. I see that very clearly all the time. They had not met in person, but they knew each other’s spirit. I know that when my time comes they will both be standing at the other end of the rainbow bridge welcoming me home.

I know that I was blessed to have such a wonderful man as my father in my life.  So I just want to say “Thank you Daddy for everything. I know you will be waiting for me when I cross over. I love you.”

Your daughter,
Cherokee Billie

Memories From Two Years Ago

if-you-are-a-victim-of-rape-do-not-keep-quiet

February 04, 2016 one of the most traumatic events of my life occurred, I was robbed and raped.  I don’t write a lot on my blog about my personal life, but this does not escape my memory.  I remember that day well. Everything changed. Those of you that have been following me know that I am an invalid and this was unimaginable when I woke up at 4:30 AM to a knife in my side and a man on top of me with his other hand over my mouth.  His first words were, “I’m going to kill you.” Calmly I replied, “Kill me.”  He kept repeating this because I believe he wanted a scared reaction instead of my calm attitude and I kept answering him the same.  Kill me.

I could see that he had been in my room for quite some time as every cabinet and closet was opened.  He had to be extremely quiet because I sleep lightly. I also could feel that he had taken my father’s wedding ring which was on a necklace around my neck.  I knew I would never get it back and it was the only thing I had left of my father’s.  I really was not afraid of dying.  I was concerned about being cut up and permanently damaged.

Keeping my calm demeanor serenely I began praying out loud.  This really aggravated him and he stuffed a scarf down my throat, but I continued to pray. At a time like that you realize the only help you can get will be from The Divine!  He did what he wanted to do and left quickly because I could see that somehow he had become afraid.  I believe it was because of all of the divine entities that came into my room at that time.  I kept praying until I was positive he was gone.

At that point I called Rene, my son from another mother. He was here within ten minutes and I cannot begin to say how happy I was to see him. He held me as I cried. That was what I needed in that moment.

Anyone who has been through a robbery/rape can relate to what I’m saying.  Yes, I have healed in many ways, but I will always remember this incident.  Thanks to a donation I was able to install a metal security door on my bedroom, so now it would be close to impossible to get into my room at night.  Because of that security door I’m able to sleep without great concern.

For anyone who goes through an attack like this remain calm and pray because you will find help from beyond.  I do not claim to be an expert on rape victims, but I know what worked for me.

I am a survivor of rape. It isn’t anyone’s job or right to call it legitimate or otherwise. I am standing up for all rape survivors. I’m One!

The bottom line to remember is: “You live, You win.”

Many blessings to all of you survivors,
Cherokee Billie

Twenty One Years Ago Today My Father Passed

Bill and Billie

  Bill and Billie

December 27 always is a difficult day for me because my father was the most special person in my life. From the time I was a little girl he was my hero and till the end of his life he was the only person who truly loved me as I was. He always had faith in me, even when I did not.

I have never known a more remarkable person then my Daddy!

Here’s a brief history about my father.  He was born in 1918 and lived in Tennessee.  When he was a little boy of six years old, in the year 1924, his mother, told him to take his two little brothers and sister and find a way to survive.  There were no social services at that time.  My father did get out and took care of those little kids; they slept in barns until he became old enough to provide a rented home.  He never went to school because he worked any type of job on farms he could and was grateful for the work.  Eventually he was able to buy land and had his own farm.

World War Two came along and he was drafted into the army.  He was shipped to the Philippines and fought in the Pacific.  On one mission his entire platoon was killed and he was shot repeatedly, but played dead and was the only survivor of his platoon.

After the army he returned to farming, but the government had shown him there was better ways to make money and offered him an education.

He married my mother in 1950 and they left Tennessee for a better life. He went into the aerospace industry, which was a booming business.  He became so skilled at making aircraft engine bolts that eventually he formed his own company.

At an early age he instilled the work ethic in me. He started me working on lathes and drill presses when I was nine years old. When I became a teenager I did his bookkeeping and payroll. Back then there were no computers and everything was done manually by hand. Once I got my driver’s license I became his truck driver. I learned to read maps and travel anywhere. Eventually I started working in his office as a sales representative. Eventually I became an outside sales representative and traveled all over the United States to military bases and sold our specialty large engine bolts. My father was not an easy person to work for because he did not teach me want to do instead he would say, “You figure it out.” He did this so that I would learn to think for myself. I think that was brilliant training. Eventually there came a point where I did not feel a calling to sell bolts and wanted to go back to college. My father was supportive even though he was disappointed that this was not what I wanted to do. He always was there for me no matter what my choices were.

Throughout my life in good times and bad I always went to my father for advice. His wisdom was remarkable and he was not judgmental and no matter what a stupid thing I might have done. His love for me was truly unconditional.

My father was always an Optimist.  No matter how rough things got he always felt that things would come out better. He developed Parkinson’s disease in his early sixties and he had a great deal of trouble talking, walking, and driving. He never let it stop him and he always said that he would make it even if he had to crawl. That strength and determination he passed on to me and I think of him always through my own struggles and hear those words, “I will make it even if I have to crawl.”

When I had my accident and injured my hips I was not able to do what I used to and my father did his best to help me in every way. Eventually I became crippled and bedridden. He never stopped being there for me and helping me as best he could. It was hard for him to accept what had happened to me at such a young age, but he always let me know he would be there for me and he was.

My father lapsed into a coma on Thanksgiving weekend in 1994.  I knew that he had a great fear of dying. The doctors were keeping him alive on machines and I just could not deal with that and had no legal authority to take him off life support.  I loved my father far too much to see him be a vegetable.

So I took matters into spiritual hands and put myself in a hypnotic state and I projected myself to his hospital room and there I took his spirit and we traveled to the other side (the fifth dimension). I figured my mother would be the first one to greet him as she passed away several years before. Surprisingly the person that greeted my father on the other side was his army sergeant who had been killed in World War Two. My father was so happy to see him again. I waited at the entrance and my father went inside and visited so many people that he loved and loved him. I could hear him laughing and talking.  When he was finished he came to me and we transported back into his hospital room and he went back into his body.  The next day he died. I knew that he died without fear.

The following morning as I awoke my father was screaming into my right ear everything he wanted me to know. I woke up saying, “Dad, you’re hurting my ear. Stop talking so loud.” I then did my best to remember exactly what he had been saying. It amazed me. I had never had such a spiritual connection in my life. Over the next few days he appeared to me, each time with a message. Throughout the years he has continued to communicate and on rare occasions I have been able to see him. It’s absolutely fascinating. He’s definitely my main Spirit Guide.

It’s difficult to express in words all that my father meant to me. These last twenty one years without him have been incredibly difficult, because he was the only person that really loved me and he was my security. For twenty one years I’ve been without that. It is a lonely feeling.

Yes, I do have spiritual contact with him from time to time. It always happens when I least expect it.

The thing that is the hardest is not having him here to talk to and hear his advice when I need it. I know that he cares and that eventually we will meet again face to face. Until then all I can say is, “I miss you Daddy.”

Your daughter,
Billie

Canceled Christmas-A Memoir

shirley-temple

I was nine years old when my mother canceled Christmas in 1960.  She announced, “There’s not going to be any Christmas in this house ever again.”  With that statement she retreated into my parents’ bedroom.  She did not come out of the bedroom for several weeks.  I did not know what the reason was for this cancellation nor was I told.

School had just let out for Christmas vacation and now I was to reside in the heavy atmosphere that my mother had just left with no means of escape.  It was as though an atomic bomb had dropped right in to my house with my mother’s statement.  I had completed a Nativity scene, for school, that was placed inside a cardboard box, blue painted, with clear plastic on the outside giving it a three-dimensional look.  I wondered what I should do with this since Christmas was canceled.

There was no Christmas tree.  There were no outside decorations.  There was no Christmas candy.  There was no Christmas dinner.  There were no presents.  It felt as though Christmas had died in our house, and unlike Jesus it was not going to be resurrected.

I was an only child and did not have any friends.  My parents had moved to Los Angeles, California from Tennessee, and did not trust the big city.  I was not allowed to have friends at the house because both of my parents worked and I was home all-alone.  My mother was afraid if people knew I was home alone I would be kidnapped or something much worse.  She was always telling me, “Now don’t tell anybody you are home alone after school.  You just come home right after school and lock the door.  Don’t open the door for anybody.”

My after school companions were children’s cartoons television hosts, Skipper Frank, Sheriff John, and Tom Hatten from the Popeye show.  My kindergarten teacher had told my mother, three years earlier, that I spent too much time watching television.  Of course my mother never told the teacher that she wasn’t home in the afternoons.  I never knew what it was like to play games, ride my bike, skip rope, roller skate or any other normal childhood activity, since I was confined to my house.  My only friends I viewed on the black and white television in the living room and for some reason we weren’t able to play games or converse.

My mother’s violent temper manifested itself from the time I can remember. I learned early in my life to avoid my mother as much as possible.  Otherwise I would be subjected to a verbal lashing, “You are so stupid.”  She was telling me constantly, “People are no good.  You can’t trust anyone.  Don’t ever trust your daddy, he is a liar.”  By the age of five I had decided I would never have children, as I did not want to inflict the same mental pain that I received from my mother.

The previous year, 1959, I had hidden outside, in the shrubbery, as I heard my mother throwing plates at my father while screaming, “You’re a liar.  You lie about everything.”  My mother was always angry with my father.  I never understood why.  He was my daddy and I saw him as a deity.

My father worked long hours in the aerospace industry, standing all day working at industrial machines, and I did not see him very often.  He worked most weekends, which left very little time for me. My father came from poverty and was determined to make a better life for his family and himself.  I worshiped my father.  He seemed larger than life.  There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do.  But even my father, with all his talents and ability, could not change what was going on in our household.

The weekend before Christmas my father took me to Folb’s Toy Store and told me, “You pick out whatever you want for Christmas.”  I had always wanted a Shirley Temple doll, since I spent a great deal of time with her in television land.  So I chose a Shirley Temple Doll.  Little Shirley was always an orphan in her movies, who was so precocious that people fought to adopt her.  No one wanted me was how I felt.  I couldn’t sing or dance I was not Shirley.

I couldn’t play with the doll once I brought her home. I would look at her face smiling at me, and wished Shirley could make everything better, for me, like she did in the movies.  I wanted to play with her but every time I looked at the doll I wondered what I had done wrong, making my mother cancel Christmas?

I loved my father so much for making sure that I had at least one toy that Christmas. I knew my father loved me but he had very little time to give to me.  I wanted his time more than I wanted presents

Many years have passed since the canceled Christmas.  My parents are no longer alive.  I have moved many times even to different countries and I still have that Shirley Temple Doll in the original box looking brand new.  I never played with that doll.  But every time I look at the box and see the doll inside I think of the love that my father had for me that Christmas and I cry.

My father passed away December 27, 1994 and I always will love and miss him.

I know that my mother has been healed in heaven and is no longer the hurt resentful person she was in life.

Cherokee Billie

My Father’s 97Th Birthday

Me , My Mother and Father in 1967

Me , My Mother, and Father in 1967

I wrote a tribute on Father’s Day to my father, well June 26 is his birthday. This year he would have been 97 years old. I cannot begin to imagine him at that age. The last fifteen years of his life was hard on him as he suffered from Parkinson’s disease. I watched him go down bit by bit and it was rough as he had always been such a strong, intelligent, and powerful man.

At the age of 76 he could not do anything for himself anymore.  Thanksgiving weekend 1994 he ended up in the hospital and collapsed into a coma within hours.  This is where my biggest spiritual learning came into place.

He was comatose and I knew that he had a great fear of dying. What I did was put myself in a hypnotic state and I projected myself to his hospital room and there I took his spirit and we traveled to the other side (the fifth dimension). I had never done this before in my life, but I was desperate for him to be able to pass and not be kept alive on machines

I figured my mother would be the first one to greet him as she passed away several years before. Surprisingly the person that greeted my father on the other side was his army sergeant who had been killed in World War Two. My father was so happy to see him again. I waited at the entrance and my father went and visited so many people that he loved and loved him. I could hear him and the others laughing and talking.  When he was finished he came to me and we transported back into his hospital room and he went back into his body.  The next day he died. I knew that he died without fear.

The following morning as I awoke my father was screaming into my right ear everything he wanted me to know. I woke up saying, “Dad, you’re hurting my ear. Stop talking so loud.” I then did my best to remember exactly what he had been saying. It amazed me. I had never had such a spiritual connection in my life. Over the next few days he appeared to me, each time with a message. Throughout the years he has continued to communicate and on rare occasions I have been able to see him. It’s absolutely fascinating. He’s definitely my main Spirit Guide.

So not only did my father teach me so much when he was living, but he taught me a great deal after he died.  So I attribute my spiritual abilities as being inherited from him.

I know that I was blessed to have such a wonderful man as my father in my life.  So I just want to say “Thank you Daddy for everything. I know you will be waiting for me when I cross over. I love you.”

Your daughter,
Cherokee Billie

CherokeeBillie.com

Twenty Years Ago Today My Father Passed.

My Father and I

My Father and I

December 27 always is a difficult day for me because my father was the most special person in my life. From the time I was a little girl he was my hero and till the end of his life he was the only person who truly loved me as I was. He always had faith in me, even when I did not.

I have never known a more remarkable person then Bill Chainey

Here’s a brief history about my father.  He was born in 1918 and lived in Tennessee.  When he was a little boy of six years old, in the year 1924, his mother, told him to take his two little brothers and sister and find a way to survive.  There were no social services at that time.  My father did get out and took care of those little kids; they slept in barns until he became old enough to provide a rented home.  He never went to school because he worked any type of job on farms he could and was grateful for the work.  Eventually he was able to buy land and had his own farm.

World War Two came along and he was drafted into the army.  He was shipped to the Philippines and fought in the Pacific.  On one mission his entire platoon was killed and he was shot repeatedly, but played dead and was the only survivor of his platoon.

After the army he returned to farming, but the government had shown him there was better ways to make money and offered him an education.

He married my mother in 1950 and they left Tennessee for a better life. He went into the aerospace industry, which was a booming business.  He became so skilled at making aircraft engine bolts that eventually he formed his own company.

My father was always an Optimist.  No matter how rough thanks got he always felt that things would come out better. He developed Parkinson’s disease in his early sixties and he had a great deal of trouble talking, walking, and driving. He never let it stop him and he always said that he would make it even if he had to crawl. That strength and determination he passed on to me and I think of him always through my own struggles and hear those words, “I will make it even if I have to crawl.”

It’s difficult to express in words all that my father meant to me. These last twenty years without him have been incredibly difficult, because he was the only person that really loved me and he was my security. For twenty years I’ve been without that. It is a lonely feeling.

Yes, I do have spiritual contact with him from time to time. It always happens when I least expect it. A few weeks ago my closest friend was helping me with paperwork and suddenly my walker, which was a few feet from my friend, started moving. My friend looked startled and I’d told him a spirit was here. After he left my father started talking to me and he had basically announced his presence by moving the walker.

At 4:00 AM this morning I spoke with him about so many things. I hope I hear from him soon with replies. The thing that is the hardest is not having him here to talk to and hear his advice when I need it. I know that he cares and that eventually we will meet again face to face. Until then all I can say is, “I miss you Daddy.”

Your daughter,
Billie

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