Ties of love may be the strongest of all, like the lovemy grandmother and I had between us.    My memories of her were the times on her lap when she would visit, always bringing boxes of Italian cookies and sweets, and although I did not understand the language she spoke, I felt the love she had for me, her granchild who adored her, too.

          I was a young mother, across the continent when my grandmother died and got the news too late to attend her funeral.  That night I was inconsolable and took to the livingroom couch to grieve, so I wouldn't wake my husband with my sobbing..  As I lay there face down, trying to stifle my sobs, crying into my folded arms, a sweet, distinct fragrance, the one my grandmother always wore filled the room.  Never before nor since have I ever smelled that perfume -- unique to my grandmother, most likely one of the many things she imported from her homeland, Italy.  I looked up to see her sitting there in one of her black flowered dresses, laced up shoes -- in the barrel chair across from me, gesturing with her hands, "Don't cry, my child.  I am not there.  I am here with you.  Don't cry my baby."   Although I had never understood the Italian language she spoke,her words were clear that night.  She remained with me for maybe 10 minutes, and then vanished, faded away, like an old photograph, faded to mist.

         That was years and years ago, but it convinced me that we do survive beyond the grave and are able to come to our loved ones when they are in need.  My grandmother was a powerful woman not only in life, but apparently still when in spirit to have manifested herself so clearly to her grieving granddaughter that night, years ago.

          I am a third generation psychic who has read professionally for now over 30 years.  When asked by a client about 15 years ago if I were a medium, could contact a deceased father, I replied, "I don't know.  I'll try, but if I can't, you won't owe me anything."  This client came to me via telephone, I had never met her and knew nothing about her but her first name and the state from which she was calling.  Her question was:  Her father had come to her place of work and asked her to come home early if she could for he wanted an early dinner.  She had to work overtime that day and when she got home found her father dead.  Her question was, "If I had come home early as he asked, was there anything I could have done?  Would he still be alive today."  As I tuned in, I saw a man, dressed in a dark blue suit, and immediately felt his heart, like my heart, rupturing.  His heart had burst. "No," he said to us, "There was nothing you could have done.  It was over so quick.  My heart.  It burst."  He then went on to say, "Take the test.  Don't drop out."  She was shocked for she was in nursing school and had planned on dropping out, not taking her finals.  "Your man, Dan, he's a keeper.  I'll be there to dance at your wedding," he said.  She then knew it was her dad for sure, knowing about her being in nursing school, planning on dropping out, the name of the guy she was dating.  He chided her about spending money.  And before he left he said, "I kiss you on your forehead," something he had always done when in the body here.  The lady then went on to see if I could contact her grandmother.  I saw her in the hospital, for a week, 7 days before she passed, which the client confirmed -- sometimes there, conscious, sometimes not -- also confirmed for her grandmother was in and out of coma the week before she died.    I saw four spirits at her bedside when she was in the hospital, relatives there to help her over, very aged, grey, and sick she was.   I then saw a young woman with long, chestnut brown hair, twirling in a long white chiffon gown, dancing, then stooping to make a long, graceful bow.  "Look at me.  I'm young again.  I'm young again.  I'm 23 again.  Look at my picture!"  The client shrieked with glee.  On her fireplace mantle was her grandparent's wedding picture.  Her grandmother had married at 23. The grandmother went on to name relatives that were on the other side with her, an uncle "Lou" as I recalled and then went on to tell her that her first child would be a boy, and she would be present at the delivery.  "I am the one who blows on your neck," she said just before leaving. My client confirmed that while sitting in her easy chair in the living room, often she would feel a cold draft on her neck, even though the room was warm and there were no windows open. 

           So our loved ones do remain with us -- know about what is going on in our lives -- care about us still-- even though they have passed over and become pure spirit. 

           In some cultures people cry when a baby is born and rejoice when the person dies.  For they know every life will be full of struggle and tear.  But jjoy, a state of love and ecstacy awaits us when we return to the other side.  When we go home.