Hearing My Sister Vicki

 

I just got a phone call from Shamus Dundon at 4:20 P.M. on September 3, 2019. My nephew told me his mother, my sister, is dead. Last night I posted this memroy, on Memorial Day. I sensed she was gone and I did not get to say goodbye. Vicki Presco died Saturday, August 24, 2019 at 7:30 P.M. I was not invited to my sister’s funeral. Here is what I blogged yesterday;

“I woke from my nap with a start. I was communicating with my surviving sister, Vicki Presco, in a way only sibling can.  We own psychic-souls that are forever trying to send the very best messages, because, we share the same fate, the same birthing channel that brings us here, and, takes us away. I love my sister, my daughter, my grandson, and my nieces. Why not my nephews. This is so very hard because Vicki is trapped in her condition. She can not just pick up the phone to say hello. She is saying hello – as I type!

Vicki can not call her friends. So I pass on her Hello. She is in a healing place. She wants us all to get along and love one another. This is what she is telling me to say to you all.

I forgive Vicki and all members of my family. The spiritual and religious work I do is extremely difficult. It takes all my concentration. I am in another realm and time most of the time. This is Memorial Day. Vicki does not remember much. I am remembering for her.”

John

https://rosamondpress.com/2019/09/03/hearing-my-sister-vicki/

https://rosamondpress.com/2019/04/19/vicki-presco-is-redeemed/

Shamus kept repeating he wanted nothing to do with me because I made up vicious things about my sister. I told him I did not go out of my way to say bad things about Vicki, just because. I demanded he send me a written account of what EXACTLY what he was doing at Rocky Point when my sister Christine drowned. I told him he told the two versions; !. He was up in the house reading a book. 2. he was jogging around looking for lizards. Shamus left the party of family members down in the cove – just before the wave struck. I asked him if he heard I had posted this blog, and decided it best to call me three days after Vicki died? He said “no”. I asked if his sons read this blog I posted on their facebook, last night. I asked him if there was a good chance I would never be told – before I died. He said he long knew there was a psychic connection members of my family shared, that he did not. This is to say – he did hear of this blog, and/or read it. He was AMAZED!

———————–

Extra! Shamus called me back and told me he never read Tom Snyder’s biography of Christine, wherein is the claim Vicki’s family looted the estate after Christine’s funeral. I asked him if he knew about the “beach party” that Saturday mention is said book. He said he did not.

“Don’t you want to clear your families’ name? We are many things, but, not looters! Don’t you see, why everything is my fault?”

Shamus said no one has been able to locate my brother. ‘No flies on Mark’. I have my doubts. I told Shamus he has no idea what it feels like to lose all your siblings.  He accused me of wanting members of my family to be guilty of murder. I told him this is a lie that fortifies the ongoing cover-up. Was there looting at Christine’s house? Was there a planned beach party, where suspected looters might be in attendance?

“These accusations are in a book. The liars wrote a movie script!”

Of course the opening scene will be ‘The Looting of Rosamond’. Next to Charlie Manson’s crew, there is the un-named looters. First there was Sharon Tate, then, Dead Rosamond.

Shamus asked me if there were any physical things I wanted as a result of losing my last sister. I told him I want my painting I did when I was fifteen, I want the cassette tape of the five hour interview will my aunt Lillian, a memento of Vicki chosen by her son, and;

“I want you to read Tom Snyder’s biography!”

The next to the last words Shamus promised me before he never speaks to me again;

“And no……..I won’t read Snyder’s book!”

The whole truth was oppressed, and suppressed. When books have been written by outsiders, and movie scripts, and when a family does not share normal information, and, work together to stop outside looters and parasites, then, the person who is being open, and honest, and is broadcasting the secret family information, will be more ostracized then ever. I would be more in the dark if it were not for the Gift God gave me. I am a Seer! Shamus admitted there were Seers in my natal family, but, I am way off course when I have been saying for twenty-five years;

“I don’t own a picture of how Christine died!”

When I asked Shamus to provide evidence of my severe mental illness, he brought up the story Rosemary told, where I would be in a room alone hitting my head on the floor and wall. I was almost four. How many people did my mother tell this story, hinting I wasn’t right, and there was something wrong with me. Rosemary was invited to check-in to Camarillo State Hospital when she was seventeen. Last night I heard Vicki telling me our mother really screwed us up, screwed Vicki up, by using her as a pawn to get back at her siblings for dare suggesting our mother was a raving, drunken, lunatic! I had decided to paint everyone in a beautiful light – with colors!

I suggested WE all get on the Doctor Phil show.  The show will begin with the bump on my foreward that I admitted I had after Shamus grilled me about being a child head-butter. I almost had him laughing.

The real good knew, is………….Vicki made it to heaven! This is what she was telling me last evening! She believed me! She was telling me it was like I described! She prepared herself. I prepared her way! From there, it is a spiritual comedy, our little and great, fretting. Our, puny concealments, and petty schemes! Mark removed my mark digitally. It was there until I turned fourteen.

Welcome to the Kingdom of Truth my beloved Sister!

John Presco

Copyright 2019

https://rosamondpress.com/2019/04/25/mark-on-my-forehead-2/

September 2019

Glendon Avenue’s Bohemian Scene

anthony103 Anthony104

Above is a painting of Midvale Ave. where we Presco’s lived in 1962. There was a heat wave. We grew up in a Wonder House in Oakland where we each had a friend that lived with us – as much as they could. Our home was full of Children. We hardly saw Rosemary. She left us in charge of a ugly old maid while she went to LA to prepare for our arrival. For three months we raised each other. We considered whether we would see our mother again. We had no address or telephone number. She called us once a week. Rosemary was very bitter she got stick with Victor’s kids. We got no child support.

Mark and I were protective of Christine who was fifteen when she met her future husband, Larry Sidle. Larry lived four houses down from us on Glendon. He was the only teenage male on the block – for several blocks! Raphael Fouquette lived about three blocks away, and Christine found her walking home from school. How could Larry ignore Christine. She was the girl next door who became Larry’s bride. They had a baby girl, Shannon.

Glendon Ave. was a mini Bohemian scene. We all did the best we could to own some magic in our lives. We lived in a nice home in Westwood, in a nice neighborhood. Uncle Vinnie owned it. Everything looked good on the outside. If you only knew. Larry got to know. He did not know we were a closed family system. We had secrets. Larry was too open, and perhaps………too healthy? He was a surfer, the real deal. He knew many hip people. He was Mr. Los Angeles. He loved us all. He will love Christine, forever!

Jon Gregory Presco

Christine and Larry Sidle at Rosemary Mile’s home on Jamieson in the Reseda. My sister is pregnant with Shannon Rosamond. We have acclimated to LA and spent much time by a swimming pool.

Rosamond Press

I woke from my nap with a start. I was communicating with my surviving sister, Vicki Presco, in a way only sibling can.  We own psychic-souls that are forever trying to send the very best messages, because, we share the same fate, the same birthing channel that brings us here, and, takes us away. I love my sister, my daughter, my grandson, and my nieces. Why not my nephews. This is so very hard because Vicki is trapped in her condition. She can not just pick up the phone to say hello. She is saying hello – as I type!

Vicki can not call her friends. So I pass on her Hello. She is in a healing place. She wants us all to get along and love one another. This is what she is telling me to say to you all.

I forgive Vicki and all members of my family…

View original post 42 more words

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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