Two of the questions I’m often asked by my clients are, do our loved ones really hear us, and do those on the other side really see us and know what’s going on in our lives?
I want to share with you an experience I had a few weeks ago.
My father came to me during a meditation. We had a lovely chat. It had been quite some time since I last had a visit with him. I miss him. I miss his hugs and his sense of humor. At the end of our visit he asked me to tell my mom that he loves her. This wasn’t something that I wanted to share with her in a text, so I made arrangements with her to chat over FaceTime. When the time came to call my mom, my dad was right there in my ear saying, “Let’s get this show on the road.” He began giving me messages for my mom. I had to tell him to hold his horses as she hadn’t even answered the phone yet.
In my spiritual work I have put boundaries in place that I must have permission from the living person before I will deliver a message. This serves two purposes. One, it is an ethical standard as an intuitive reader/medium and that’s what feels right for me. Second, I don’t want every spirit that crosses my path to pop in trying to get me to deliver messages to their sister’s boyfriend’s cousin. There’s a time and place.
Back to our story.
I didn’t have my mother’s permission. She didn’t even know my dad was there with me or that he had a message for her. She didn’t answer the phone. I tried again. She still didn’t answer. I tried a third time, all the while this increasing urgency to receive and deliver this message for her was building. I wasn’t sure what to do. This was my mom and here was my dad trying to talk to her, but I have my rules. With the third attempt unsuccessful, I was overwhelmed with the feeling that what he needed to tell her was important. A feeling of peace washed over me and I allowed my dad to give me the messages he was trying so persistently to deliver.
It was a few hours later when my mom called me. She was checking on details of my son’s graduation, unaware of my attempts to contact her. Her phone wasn’t working properly and she never received any of my calls or text messages. I told her I had a message from dad if she would like to hear it.
I proceeded to deliver the messages my dad had for his sweetheart. He showed me images of my mother on her bed, pleading for a sign he was with her. He told her he was there, and that he knew the burdens of her heart. He saw her struggles. He was witness to her grief. He conveyed how much he loved her. He thanked her for their life together and for the family they created. It was a beautiful tender moment, so full of love and peace.
As soon as the reading was over my mom began to share with me how earlier that week she found herself at the cemetery where my father is buried. She spent sometime there in the quiet solitude with an aching in her heart. She misses my dad terribly and has really struggled with his absence these last few years. Before she left she pleaded with my dad, “Please, please send me a message through Amy.”
I share this, with my mother’s permission, because it is a validation that our loved ones on the other side see us. They hear us. They are very much still a part of our lives. Sometimes we need the reminder that we are never alone. We are always being guided and supported by those that have gone before us. Our loved ones are with us in our triumphs and our sorrows. They are with us in our dark moments, our celebrations, and our everyday moments. Their love and presence don’t just end. It transforms.