Do you ever sense truths beyond explanation, uncanny coincidences that shape your path? As a child, I wondered if such gifts ran in my family, especially after hearing tales of my grandmother, Mary (Skidmore Drysdale) Moffat (1899-1983), whose visions wove mystery and heartbreak through our lives in Gartcosh.In her teenage years, amid the rolling fields of Gartcosh, Scotland, Mary visited a nearby fair, likely celebrating the end of World War I. There, a fortune teller grasped her hand, eyes ...