About a month ago, I had a session with a medium, and today feels like the day to tell that story.
This was always something I figured I would do someday but decided to do it now after receiving a trusted referral that felt right.
So, for context: I sense the presence of my loved ones on the other side all the time. I dream about them often. I feel them around me. I also work with the ancestors in my spiritual practice. And I was prepared for this medium to be quite accurate + precise based on my recommender’s experience.
But when the medium (someone I’d never met before + had only ever spoken with via text to arrange the appointment) mentioned that first loved one by name, all the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
It was absolutely chilling.
Part of me was like, yeah, of course this is happening, totally makes sense. Another part of my brain was freaking out + manically searching for an explanation.
The session was solid, with lots of names, dates, and meaningful details that validated the love + presence of my beloved dead.
My grandmother was the one who had the most to say (very congruent with who she was in life).
At one point, she mentioned an art project I completed this year (my tarot deck), a project I was just beginning at the time, as well as some future visions for my work + creativity. The idea that my grandmother would see + support my work in this way was super moving to me, especially since, by some standards, it’s a little weird + witchy.
At one point in the conversation, my wedding came up, and the medium encouraged me to go look at my wedding photos because she thought there might be some kind of message in the background of one of the photos.
So right after the session, I went to grab my wedding photo book + found a folded up sheet of paper in the front cover. When I unfolded it, I saw that it was my grandparents’ Christmas letter from 2014, the year of my wedding -- which was already spooky because it was like my grandparents were continuing the conversation (which of course they were, but still).
In the letter, my grandma not only mentioned my wedding, she also mentioned my “lovely” upcycled dress + how much she enjoyed our vegan food (which were two of the weirder --and in the case of the vegan food -- more controversial, parts of the festivities).
I’d totally forgotten about this letter. It reminded me that my grandmother not only supported + appreciated what made me unique + even weird, she also openly bragged about it to her social circle via this letter. Her support wasn’t a new thing.
I also remembered the last time I saw her when we both knew she was dying. The last thing she said to me was: live a good life. I’m grateful she's still apparently invested in that outcome and so lucky to have her in my corner. She was a force to be reckoned with, and I'm pretty sure that hasn't changed.
Anyway, sometimes life is weird + mysterious + beautiful + numinous + shattering -- and I think those moments are worth sharing + those stories are worth telling.