I find it difficult to remember the details of my readings. They seem to pass through me like water going through a sieve. But some readings stand out for a variety of reasons and stay with me. I was blessed recently with a very memorable reading. A young woman came to see me who'd recently lost her father. The intensity of his emotion overwhelmed me, and I found myself tearing up with his love for his daughter. This has only happened to me two other times, and I remember those readings vividly as well.
The only way I can explain it is like this: it feels as though the loved one on the other side takes all his love for the person sitting in front of me and energetically forms it into a ball. Then they take that ball and press it into my heart chakra. I can literally feel this. I can feel this warm, wonderfully energy pressing through my back and going into my heart. It's an amazing feeling, and it always overwhelms me.
I don't like crying in front of people. I'm a messy crier. It effects my voice, my throat tightens, my mascara runs. And so when this does happen to me, this pressing thing, I feel three things: overwhelmed with love, embarrassed to be crying in front of a client, and worried that I'm not being the unbiased vessel a medium needs to be. But, really, the tears aren't coming from me. They come directly from the loved one who feels so excited to be getting a message across.
I think that this happens rarely because it takes so much energy. It took a lot for that father to gather up that energy, and he could only pass messages for about ten minutes after that. This lovely father misses his family almost as much as they miss him. The only difference is that he can see them, check in on them and let them know in subtle ways that he's still there watching over them. But, still, he made it very clear that he misses them a lot.
This bugged me for some time afterward. Is he happy over there? How can they miss us that much and still be progressing forward like they need to? So later that night, I meditated and asked my guide. He said that being in heaven is like being on vacation. You're having a great time. It's exciting and fun, carefree and liberating. But you think of your family, you call them, send them postcards that say, "Wish you were here." You miss them -- sometimes a lot -- but you're having a wonderful time. And that's what this amazing dad showed me. He was with his family members who'd crossed and his three dogs. He was having a good time reuniting with all of them, and he really enjoyed spending time with his granddaughter before she was born and loves watching over his loving family here on Earth.
I debated a lot before posting on this. I don't want anyone reading this to think that our loved ones over there are missing us and feeling homesick. It's quite the opposite. I just want everyone who's lost a loved one to know that they're still with you, checking in on you, and missing you too. The only difference is that they get to see us.
My friend lost a loved one recently and she said to me, "I wish I could see him. Just for a moment. Wouldn't it be great if he could just pop into my room for five seconds to say, 'I made it. I'm okay. Love you. Miss you.' I'd even settle for a postcard," she lamented.
I know how she feels. Death is such a final thing. Even if you believe as strongly as you all reading this do that there is life on the other side, it's still so very difficult to deal with the finality -- the knowledge that on this earth, for the time you're here, you won't see them. That's hard. I think that's what that dad was trying to express to me. He knew how much his family missed him. And all he wanted them to know was how much he loved, loved, loved them and missed them too. I think the whole "pressing" thing I felt was his desire for them to know this. Maybe, for that day, that one moment, I was the postcard letting them know "I made it. I'm okay. Love you. Miss you."