We just celebrated my mother's ninetieth (90) birthday at her favorite tea

room and concluded the luncheon by exchanging tealeaf readings, which

we learned from mom. 
Being a Scottish family a good hot cuppa of black loose-leafed tea blended
perfectly with milk and sugar was our breakfast brew. Cup emptied
sometimes my mother would read our tea leaves -only for fun she'd remind
us, being a good and faithful Catholic.  
Her love for spooky and "unusual" sparked an interest in her children, an
interest that continued to grow as we did. Like some of my siblings (the
rest are in denial I think) I read the tarot cards, aura's, tealeaves, (of
course) and see spirits.
Although she'd never admit to having special psychic abilities, Mom has
seen spirits too, and has had prophetic dreams.
As far back as I can remember Mom has loved the mysterious and
supernatural. When we were kids we'd sit with mouth's hanging open at
the breakfast table as she recounted in great dramatic detail the previous
night's television program "One Step Beyond (too late for us kids).
Afterward we'd have to scamper down the steep San Francisco hills to a
day with the nuns, head full of spooky images.  
Friday nights we'd get to stay up late and with her would watch The
Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents.  
She's not crazy about me being a witch though. Mom is mostly dismayed
about some of her daughters being witches and pagans, wishing we'd
have remained faithful to Catholicism as she has. But on an odd day Mom
says, Maybe I'm the head witch, eh? Giving her sweet smile.
Living through the bombings during World War ll, immigrating to Canada
(with five kids), back to Glasgow Scotland (with one more) and then to the
US (w/seventh in the picture above, to meet my father); living through the
1960's in SF with teens, and all the other things that come with eight kids
and a strong-willed husband,  I think my mother is a most wonderful
woman. Blessed be. 
THE SKYE IN JUNE, my novel, is about a Scottish immigrant family living
in San Francisco with one child that has unusual abilities. In the book there
is a chapter about the mother reading tea leaves and this part of my
fictional story I took from what my mother had told us about how she
started reading tea leaves–– "When June (that's me) was born I read tea
leaves for one of the other mother's in the ward. I don't know why. I never
had done it before." 
What about your mother? How has she influenced your abilities and
talents?