The Baby Mind Reader: Amazing Psychic Stories from the Man Who Can Read Babies’ Minds. Derek Ogilvie
I was never 100-per-cent happy. I always felt that I never really fitted in. I always felt different.
I didn’t have a lot of friends as I never wanted to do what other boys did. Because I didn’t like rough-and-tumble games I was thought of as a bit of a sissy. I was awful at football and as this was the benchmark for how cool you were, I would always be looking over my shoulder, especially at school, in case someone wanted to pick on me and have a fight.
I hated school. I just didn’t want to be there, although my primary school days weren’t that bad. I think this was because I felt special then. I was very clever and always excelled in maths and anything associated with music. I started playing the accordion and singing when I was eight, and from then on wanted to be on the stage or television. I believed that this was my calling. I remember making up my mind from that early age that music would be my way out of the humdrum life that everyone around me seemed to be living.
From the age of nine or ten, I began to tell anyone who asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up that I was going to be a millionaire and would make my money from being in the music business. How strange, then, that this was to be exactly what would happen. I must have been giving out psychic messages when I was a child, even though I didn’t realize it at the time!
My gran has undoubtedly been the most influential person in my life. I was always very close to her. She was, and still is, a wonderful woman. Kind, considerate and the perfect hostess, she was always happy to see me or anyone who came to visit her. Since she crossed over into the spirit world six years ago, my gran has been my guiding light, and I see it as no coincidence that my talents as a psychic have soared since she passed away. I don’t think that my gran is necessarily my spirit guide, though. She is watching over me and does give me advice when I need it (and sometimes when I think I don’t!) but it’s a common misconception that when a close relative passes away they immediately become our guide in the afterlife. Relatives and friends may come through with messages for us and be looking out for us, but that doesn’t mean they are our guides or guardian angels.
When I was a youngster, my gran was very supportive and always encouraged me in whatever I did. This is still happening even now but it’s being shown in a different way. It seems significant that my gran was taken from me when I most needed her to be by my side and yet she has helped me more than I could ever have dreamed of now she is in spirit. When I was a youngster, I thought I loved her, but over the years I’ve grown to understand that our relationship is much stronger than that. It’s a bond that will never be broken.
I can now see how after-death communication is so precious to those who seek it. The connection I have with my gran is so important to me and something I really treasure.
I remember Christmas Day 1976 as clearly as if it were yesterday. Sitting at the dining table with mum and dad and the rest of the family, I started feeling very, very strange. Something inside my head just clicked and I became fully aware of everyone and everything around me. I could feel other people’s pain. I could feel lots of energy, more than I’d ever been conscious of before. I became more vibrant, alert and complete. My brain seemed to have exploded and expanded, and I was suddenly aware of more than I had ever known previously. These few seconds of time were to change my life forever.
Everyone who was sitting around the table with me on that eventful Christmas Day was totally oblivious to this. They carried on eating and having a chat. However, experiencing this totally crazy event had changed me. I now felt that I was a piece of the people around me and in them. I was a piece of everything and in everything. I was still me, Derek, but I was also aware of this something else. This was something I wouldn’t get to grips with for another 20 years, something I would put to sleep in my head and try to ignore until it resurfaced at the most unlikely time in my life.
During my final couple of years at primary school I became very friendly with my classmate Susan Lee and her younger brother Graeme. Graeme was eighteen months younger than me but we were around the same height and build and looked to be the same age. Graeme and I got on well and never fought or fell out. There was another boy who played in the street whose name was Eamonn and he was a year older than me. Graeme and I were inseparable during the long summer holidays. Things changed, though, when I went to secondary school and we didn’t see each other much after that. Eventually we lost contact. I regret that because I really loved him.
Graeme died on 28 March 1984, when he was 17. I was 19 at the time and had just come home from college when mum gave me the news. My gran had been to visit us the previous day and had mentioned that the bus she’d been on had driven past a car accident. I hadn’t given this a second thought, and would never have dreamt for one second that Graeme would be the only passenger fatally injured in that crash. His death really affected me, though I kept those feelings close to my chest. Graeme was my first love and I’ve never told anyone until this moment. I couldn’t even tell him. I was too scared to do something like that. It was the 1970s, and being gay wasn’t as accepted as it is now. I was just an 11-year-old boy confused about my feelings for my closest friend, and that was that. I kept it quiet and tried to deal with it in the best way I could. I was glad that Graeme stopped calling me when I went to high school, and we didn’t see each other as often. It hurt me just to be around him because I loved him so much. I did see Graeme when it was his turn to come up to the big school. I kept my distance from him, though, because I still had feelings for him and didn’t want to be friends for all the wrong reasons. I respected him too much for that.
I miss Graeme to this day and think about him. What would he be like now? Would he and I have kept in touch? Would he have a wife and family and have reached his full potential in life?
When I think about Graeme it just makes the pain of his loss all the harder to bear. Graeme’s spirit has been to visit me on a few occasions, and as I write this he is by my side. He usually turns up when Eamonn and I are together, when I’m least expecting it, and sends us both messages. He loves to talk about the countless games of football and badminton we played when we were just boys. He misses those days and us as much as we miss him. He now realizes I had feelings for him and laughs about it with me, which is amazing. I loved Graeme, and although it’s taken me 30 years to say it, I’m glad that I have. Those were great days and he was the best friend I ever had.
During my first couple of years at secondary school I found it very difficult to fit in. My cheery demeanour was just a front. Deep down, I hated just about every second of school life. I didn’t want to tell my mum and dad or let on to anyone about my problems because I was worried what their reaction would be. I couldn’t let anyone into my real world. How could I tell friends I could sense things I thought they couldn’t? And, more importantly, how could I tell them I was gay? I just kept my head down and tried to get through those horrid days as quickly as possible.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t change how I felt about boys, and this was beginning to prove embarrassing for me at school. I would get flustered when I saw boys I liked, and found it difficult to hide these emotions. Inside, I became very angry about my situation. From this point in my life, I became determined to be a successful person. I wanted to hit back at the world for inflicting me with this ‘gay disease’ and giving me a sixth sense.
Around this time I stopped sensing the spirit world. Almost immediately, I became very insecure about myself and started to worry about what people thought of me. It was difficult enough knowing I was different because I was gay, but this was exacerbated by my ability to tune in to classmates and feel their energy. By my third or fourth year, I started finding it difficult to sit in class without having panic attacks, so I started sitting at the back whenever I could to hide away from everyone. I’d got it into my head that because I could feel energy, everyone else could as well. I thought that they just dealt with it better than me, which was why they hadn’t mentioned it! Looking back, all of this seems crazy, but it was my way of dealing with my issues. Deep down I knew I was on my way to having an emotional breakdown.
I was clever at school but in no way reached my full potential. I struggled through my final years of schooling, sat my exams and ended up with enough qualifications to go to the local technical college. In many ways it was decided for me that I should do an engineering degree, so in order not to upset the apple cart I applied, signed the forms