It was one of those difficult readings: Afterward, I had to find my fiancée and get a hug from him to ground me. During the reading itself, I had to keep my eyes closed, because if I’d opened them and looked at my client, I know I would’ve started crying along with her.
People often ask me – Isn’t it hard to be a medium? How do I cope with all the sadness that I have to deal with day in and day out? And how can I enjoy making people cry? When I hear questions like that, my jaw begins to drop. But then I realize people ask those questions because they don’t truly understand what I do. And, in the case of my client – let’s call her Rita, although her grief was strong, the love between her and her departed husband was much, much stronger.
Rita, a 34-year-old single mother from Toronto, had never visited a psychic or a medium before. When I met her for the first time before our session, she told me she didn’t know what she was afraid of most – that no one would come through for her, or that someone would.
I took a moment to clear my mind, then told her I was feeling a strong male presence. “I think your father is here,” I said.
She seemed mystified. “My father is still alive.”
How strange, I thought. Not only was I sure that I had her father, but he was bringing in someone else for her. “There’s another male energy here, a younger man. I’m getting… the month of August?”
She gasped, then sat forward.
Spirit showed me a cartoon character from my youth: “Augie Doggie?” It made no sense, but I’m just the messenger.
Tears formed in Rita’s eyes. “His name was August, but his nickname was ‘Augie Doggie’,” she said quietly.
With the connection made, August began coming in stronger. He felt like a grown gentleman, not someone who might be associated with an old Hanna-Barbera cartoon. “Did he used to put his hands together like this?” I said, lacing my fingers together and placing them on one knee.
Rita was silent for a few moments, nodded, then said, “Please go on.”
So I did, and for the next half hour my voice was soft and low, as I seemed to talk in the voice of – as Rita told me later – her husband, August, who had passed away 16 months ago. At one point, I had a metallic taste in my mouth – which I’ve since come to recognize as chemotherapy. (August had passed from throat cancer.)
Rita’s tears flowed stronger. I closed my eyes and let the words come.
“I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone,” I said gently. “I told you I would never forget you and Mark. You have to have faith. Believe me.”
I talked more about Mark, their two-year-old son. And I kept my eyes closed the entire time because when I did open them, I felt as if I was seeing his beautiful wife through his eyes.
August encouraged Rita to be strong. He said what he needed to say, and then I felt his spirit depart. I silently thanked my guides for allowing August to appear so clearly, and hoped that I was able to give Rita what she needed. She dabbed her eyes, then smiled brightly and thanked me for helping her.
My goal isn’t to bring people to tears. My only wish is to bring proof of spirit, and demonstrate that life continues beyond life. Death is not sad but the parting is. From what I hear from spirit, crossing over isn’t frightening – in some ways, it’s liberating. (But I always get a chuckle from that line by Woody Allen: “I’m not scared of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”)
And after my session with Rita, I realized that one of the greatest lessons we can learn is that grief is part of the journey however love is everlasting.
If you have any questions or comments on this subject, I’d love to hear from you. Write me at carolyn@carolynmolnar.com , and please visit me again!
Photo Credit: Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay