Roberto showed up for his appointment wearing a bright plaid shirt, sharply pressed jeans, and a frown that seemed to suggest he’d rather be sitting in a pub with his friends than visiting a psychic medium. Uh-oh, I thought, here’s another ‘Prove it to me’ kind of guy. Nevertheless, I gave him my brightest smile, thanked him for coming, and ushered him into my office. Wordlessly, he sat in the chair across from my desk and scratched his closely cropped beard. In my mind, my guides sent me the image of a brick wall – Roberto didn’t want to be read. “How can I help you?” I asked pleasantly. His gruff mumble: “You tell me.”

That made me stop and regroup. I studied Roberto: Tall and swarthy, maybe 38 years old? Too young to be a curmudgeon. A crotchety demeanor, yet he wasn’t hostile. And I didn’t feel he was challenging me. So, why did he come? I wondered.

“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” I began, hoping he’d open up a little.

“Not really,” he said.

I remembered a story told to me by a friend, Yvonne, who had worked a psychic fair in Cleveland. A fellow paid for a reading, and when Yvonne started giving him pieces of information, he yapped, “Nope!” After every statement, he replied, smiling “Nope! Nope!” Finally, Yvonne offered to give the guy his money back, telling him she might not be the best reader for him. “Nope!” he exclaimed happily, “I’m having too much fun telling you you’re wrong! Keep going!” After a stunned moment, Yvonne shrugged and continued reading the man to the best of her ability. She later told me it was the strangest session she’d ever had.

Yvonne’s fellow sounded like a clown. But that wasn’t Roberto, I felt. He may be sitting behind a brick wall, but there was something behind his brooding. Something tragic. And I would work with him to the best of my ability.

I asked my guides for help and support, and began to tune into Roberto’s spirit people.

“Spirit is showing me empty drawers,” I said, giving Roberto what I was perceiving. “Big, green garbage bags filled with things that were left behind. There’s a locket that’s very important to you.”

Roberto grunted, with a slight nod of his head.

The pictures in my mind switched. “I see white sandy beaches. She’s encouraging you to go to the beach. And you don’t have to keep all the jewelry, she’s saying. But the locket with her hair is important. And September is an important month for you.”

Another grunt, another slight nod.

I suddenly realized I was hearing a young woman’s voice, and went with it. “She’s telling me you don’t have to feel guilty that you never married her. Being married wasn’t important – what mattered most to her was that you were with her, sharing her life.”

“Nicola,” he said softly. “Nicky.” I thought I saw a tear, but he quickly brushed his eyes with the back of a hand. “She died last year. September fifteenth.”

I went on to describe the woman, but she only gave me her likes and dislikes, not a lot of physical details. It was as if she was saying what she looked like wasn’t important. But Roberto recognized her, for I felt a shift in his energy. Or maybe I was just hoping he was shifting, coming to accept that I was bringing Nicky through for him.

I then brought in other spirit people for Roberto, but he remained stoic in his chair. At the end of our session I said a quick prayer of thanks to spirit for visiting us, and then I thanked Roberto for seeing me.

He shrugged. “You know,” he said slowly, “I don’t believe in this stuff.”

My jaw dropped. I had just given him scads of evidence! What more did he want? Calm down, I told my simmering ego, don’t get defensive.

Roberto opened his wallet and drew out a picture. “I don’t believe. But she did.”

I looked at the photograph: Roberto and a young, raven-haired woman, arm-in-arm and smiling at the camera. They were standing on a beach.

“I came to see you to honour her,” he said quietly. Then he looked at the picture, sighed, and slipped it back into his wallet. He pursed his lips, paid me for the session, then left the office before I had a chance to come around from behind my desk and walk him to the door.

That was several years ago, and it’s coming up on September 15 again. I’d like to think that I may have helped Roberto change his belief “in this stuff” so he could see the healing power of spirit. I hope he left my office feeling more at peace. But we can’t influence or control another’s thoughts, so the best we can do is pray for those who are lost or hurting, and ask that their guides and loved ones in spirit help them find serenity. And if Roberto is still a disbeliever, well, peace be with you, friend. Just know, as I do in my heart of hearts, that a dark-haired beauty is standing on a sandy white beach in the spirit world, waiting for you to join her when the time is right.

If you have any questions or comments on this subject or on any other spiritual matter, feel free to write me at mail @ . And please visit me again!


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