the next and that their lives and the world they live in there are real.
CHAPTER
4
God Isn’t the “Angel of Death”
The first time Flavio cut my hair, I did something I normally don’t do—I brought through his sister, mother, and grandmother while he was cutting my hair. I deserved the haircut I received from him that day. In other words, it wasn’t a good one. I freaked the poor guy out! Knowing that, I decided to give him another chance at cutting my hair, this time without the messages from his loved ones.
He told me during the second appointment that he had been praying to receive some kind of sign from God that his loved ones were okay, and he confirmed that his prayers were answered that day. He also told me that he had found a reason to live and be happy again. On June 17th, less than four months later, he passed away from a brain aneurysm.
One of my aunts passed from a long battle with cancer. As you might well imagine, I fielded a lot of questions regarding why people die when they do.
“Why did Flavio, who was so young and full of life, have to die so early? Why did God do this to him?”
One of my aunts posted on Facebook that her heart was breaking as she struggled with the question as to why God would take away another one of her sisters (my own mother being one of them). I have read other posts in groups I belong to on Facebook talking about “the day God took my (loved one) away,” and the anger and confusion they feel towards God for doing so.
Several years ago I did a session in which a woman’s mother came through telling her she needed to start grieving and start moving through her grief. Otherwise she’d never live the life God intended for her. The woman kept telling me that she was at peace that God took her mother away from her when she was only seven years old. “It was God’s will after all.”
“Really?” I asked her. “Do you think that God is the ‘angel of death,’ or that He was so bored that in order to amuse himself he thought he’d take away the mother of a seven year old, altering your life forever?” She thought about it for a moment, put her head in her hands and broke down, releasing a flood of tears that she had been keeping in for more than thirty years.
After my aunt’s funeral I asked her sister, “Do you really think that God is the ‘angel of death’ and that he ‘took’ your sister from you?”
“No,” she said, “I was angry and hurt and looking for someone to blame, but I don’t believe that anymore.”
The souls have assured me and want you to know that when it’s time to move from this life to the next, the timing is always perfect. We may not understand the whys and wherefores now when we lose someone we love, but they say that after we’ve learned all of the lessons we’re supposed to learn while we’re here, our passing is a graduation from this life to life in a world of peace and bliss—a reward for job well done.
CHAPTER
5
A Party in Her Honor
A woman named Ann was dying from breast cancer. I was asked if I would offer a session as part of the silent auction that was being held at a benefit to help pay for her medical bills. “I’ll go one further,” I said, “I’ll do a session for her. That way she’ll know what to expect when her time comes. Hopefully, it’ll help her.”
The people who approached me told me that they loved the idea but weren’t sure that Ann would agree because “she didn’t believe in that sort of thing.” Honestly, I wasn’t surprised when she did agree to the session. It seemed perfectly reasonable to me that when Ann, or anyone else for that matter, comes to the point that she understands that physical death is inevitable, curiosity sets in as to what may be waiting when that moment finally arrives.
When I do a session for people who are terminally ill, it’s not unusual for them to hear from a number of souls of their loved ones who seem to be gathering during the session en masse, hoping to help them make their transition easier. In Ann’s case however, it was only her aunt who showed up.
“She’s telling me that there’s a party being held in your honor in about three weeks,” I told her.
Ann looked puzzled. “I don’t know of any party. The only one I know of is that one tonight.”
Her aunt repeated herself that there was going to be a huge party in Ann’s honor three weeks from the day we were meeting. Ann looked at me and shrugged.
Twenty-two days later she was surrounded by her mother, her father, and her sister Mary when she drew her last breath. At her memorial, her father, unaware of the session between Ann and me, said that during the last three weeks of her life, Ann was more peaceful than he had ever seen her.
Terminal illness is a harsh way for life to end, not just for those who are dying but for those left behind. Standing by powerless, sitting and watching our loved ones fading, helpless to stop what can’t be stopped, is difficult and puts a huge burden on our own souls. Watching the ones we love in so much pain leaves a lasting effect on us long after they’re gone, and we’re left here to grieve their absence. It tends to cause us to lose hope in the here and now and in the reality of the hereafter. We also lose a great deal of our loved ones before they’re even gone.
But once they do succeed in moving from this life to the next, these souls insist that it’s what they went through that was necessary and that they would gladly go through it all again to gain the same reward in the next life. Most of the souls I’ve heard from who have passed from cancer, or another terminal disease, often refuse to acknowledge any suffering they experienced because they’ve gained so much from it in terms of peace and joy in the hereafter. If they do acknowledge going through a rough time before their passing, it comes across as a distant memory, and they insist that not only did it end at the moment of their death, but it was also a valuable part of the new life they built for themselves in the hereafter.
CHAPTER
6
But I’m Not Dead
Lisa told me about a dream she had involving her mother who had passed away just two months before.
“In my dream I was joking with her as I always did. She was directing me to do something as she always did. Anyway, my comeback to her telling me what to do in my dream was, ‘Mom, I might listen to you . . . if someone didn’t go and die.’”
What she said back to me was serious, but she seemed to be quite confused at the same time. “You’re right, but I’m not dead . . .” Then she shook her head and said, “Well, I am dead . . .” then quickly added, “. . . I can’t explain it.”
Death comes for us all sooner or later. According to the U.S. Census Bureau someone dies in the United States every twelve seconds. Or do they?
Before I came to grips with my ability as a medium, or even knew what one was, I wore a T-shirt that said, “It’s not that life is so
