(bryanism Repost on: Intuitive Experiences---> I Don't Do Funerals.)
I Don't Do Funerals. (story)
I was in my car driving down a major city street on my way to the mall, but got stopped by a traffic light. To my right I saw about thirty people standing around a tombstone in the very open, no-gates-cemetery park, and also about the same number of motorcycles parked in a semi-circle 
As the light turned green, I made a right onto the mainstreet, bypassing the cemetery (still on my right), but just before the cemetery was completely out of sight, my head jerked back instinctively to find the man who was being burried sitting in my back seat. 
The male spirit, recently transitioned and stil transfixed by the earth plane, said to me, "I bet you know how I died." 
I replied, "Well, isn't it obvious? Judging by the helmet sitting in your lap still showroom new with no scuffs, like you never wore it, which is why you didn't survive the accident (you caused)." 
He grinned and said, "Yeah, you're good alright, as in being able to hear and understand very well without a shaddow of doubt in your special ability," he rubbed his chin as if he had a plan. 
I responded, "Well, I don't know about being so special..." 
Suddenly perceiving what he was thinking but not saying per se, I didn't wait a moment longer to admonish, "No, I don't do funerals. It's sacred and I'm not screwing up those folks' last chance to remember you, with me stumbling onto the scene, like some kind of crazy psychic medium on the loose in dire need of attention/validation. 
"None of them heard me, but they can hear you, if you'd just go back and leave a message." He cajoled looking for a softspot in my spiritual conviction, which is when he said, "I have kids, you know." 
The moment he said that, I was already at the corner gas station turning around making my way back towards the cemetery while demanding, "Well, what do you want me to say? And please be specific." 
He said, "You'll know once you get amongst them. Just stay/be in the moment (like you always do it)," which is when it dawned on me that he had already tried soliciting other passers-by in the back seat of their car(s) too and more than once he made himself very perceivable, except noone would heed, the way he knew I would/could. 
I parked my car in the cemetary off to the side intentionally at a distance, so I'd have about a 45 second walk to join them, being enough time to study the (thought) atmosphere hovering above the group (seeing for myself, no matter what the deceased had suggested, just how open they'd be to me doing this). 
As I got closer, he pointed out a very responsible looking woman in the crowd to stand next to, so I could be announced. I whispered in her ear, "I'm Bryan and I'd like to have words or share a message adding to your group farewell and dialogue." Needless to say, my heart was pounding out of my chest, because there was no turning back, even still I remained grounded by remembering the main reason I came back -- a message regarding his children. 
The responsible looking woman announced, "Hey, guys. This gentleman named Bryan dropped by to add words. Go ahead Bryan," she said with special gratitude, her hand at my back, gesturing that everyone focus on my words; and so I began, "My name is Bryan. I am a medium, someone who talks to people from the other side, and as I passed the cemetery, the man your burying asked me to come back and say words." I looked around for some kind of reaction, but all I could sense was a coherant, visceral response that (actually) induced a light trance. 
I continued, "Two things he said that I should mention. Here's the first: Remember when we all got our first motorcycles as friends for a fresh way to connect and enjoy one another, when the thrill of the ride made us glad to be alive? Remember how we thought we could make it be more fun by bar hopping and sometimes adding a little recreational drugs, as if this would enhance our interaction...make us closer? It didn't work did it? Please wear your helmets and go back to an earlier time and mindset, because there's where you'll find me -- always." 
I looked up surrounded by astonished eyes of pure openness that pulled more words from me like water from a well, and so it was easier to continue, "The second thing is his kids. Their mom will need help, especially around Christmas and their birthday parties. Promise me this," which is when I started pointing to specific individuals in the crowd assigning to each a holiday implying that the group should rotate that responsibility instinctively. 
A guy in the crowd wearing a wide-open smile chimed in, "Can you ask him, if I can finally date his two ex-girlfriends," putting his arms around two young women each flanking his right and left. 
Like mediums might do, I closed my eyes to ask, which is when the group broke out in laughter, and as it seems -- I was last to get the joke, but fortunate to catch on in enough time to laugh along with them, using this laughter as a great place to close, "Well, guys, that's all he/I wanted to say." 
I began walking towards the center of the group and momentarily paused to look down and see the tomb stone they bought for him, knowing he wasn't down there. It took a moment, but I quickly snapped out of my daze and continued walking through instead of around the crowd, and they parted so I could pass through. 
Ego wanted me out of dodge and hearing range, for being unsure what they really thought of me; yet to my surprise, I heard sporadic thank you's turn into a chorus of thank you's (from both heartfelt men and women), and although I would not look back, I raised a hand in the air and waved goodbye with my fingers, as I headed straight for the car. 
I shut the door and fastened my seat belt, happy to be alone again, yet before his memory slipped from my own, I heard a legion of thank you's straight from him (the deceased) but when I looked in my rearview mirror into the backseat, he had already gone. 
I said, "You're welcome and I'm honored."