As a Medium, my work brings me up close in personal with the details of peoples lives. I often say that I am a guest at other peoples family reunions. I listen as Uncle Joe describes his hot rod antics, as he tells of driving down back roads during prohibition, and watch as Grandma shows me through the inside of her immaculate farmhouse. Through words and pictures, I see prayers stuck to walls in ancient cities, as a dead mother describes how she watched her living daughter during a pilgrimage. I smell the cigarettes burning during the visit of this one’s father, and I hear the deep resonance of another’s voice as they sing to me, so that I can tell their family how musical they were. These details are interesting and bring confirmation to the living guests that I am indeed in communication with their Beloved Dead. But for me, the real bit, the piece that sticks to me is the love. I feel it!
When working with Spirits I am connected to their energy field and through this, I am often able to feel their memories. I can tell where they held pain and illness in their body because I feel it like a dull ache in my own, and I can feel deeply their emotions. I can tell when a Spirit is nervous, this happens particularly if there is unfinished business between the living and the dead. I can also feel the depth in which they loved their living counterparts. This is a truly amazing thing to experience, for through this gift I know what it feels like to love a complete stranger.
This week I met with a client for a one on one session; whose husband had passed. As with most of my Individual Spirit Communication sessions, I expected it to be emotional, deep and healing. As I sat with her passing messages from her husband, I felt like I was the narrator of a love story. Her husband spoke to me/through me, talking about their life together. He shared stories of their meeting, how they had both been married before, he spoke of their being a team, that they did everything together and often just the two of them. He spoke of the home they built together, and his favorite chair in the living room and the view from the window that the room had been designed around. He spoke of their Carribean escape and the many planned adventures that unfortunately did not come to pass. But more then anything, he kept coming back to the deep well of love that they shared, and through his words and energy, I knew what that well felt like.
Often when I am speaking to lovers separated by death, I remind them of how fortunate they are, explaining how many never get to experience a love so deep and complete. This does not diminish the pain of loss, in fact, the pain felt by such a loss can often be debilitating as their lives have been so closely woven together that finding where one begins and one ends can seem impossible. When death comes in and does it’s little dance, the living partner is often left floating adrift in the deep water, wondering where the familiar life they have known has gone to. They find themselves questioning if they even want to return to where they have come from, or head instead for the distant shore of recreation. For they have become a stranger to themselves, half of what they once were.
May you be fortunate enough to know the depths of true love!