Yesterday was election day. While it’s neither here nor there, I had so much to do that it seemed reasonable to take a nap. To be clear, that wasn’t all I did. I called my parents and made some chili. I had a conversation with the cat and I walked the dog. Later, I walked the dog again. In between all these activities I probably sat down 10 times to write but the words didn’t come. I blew a few roses then stopped fighting, trusting that it wasn’t time.
Late in the afternoon I ran into a neighbor with her dog. She told me she’d awakened the night before with thoughts of her son, who had passed a few years earlier at the age of 19.
“I walked to the window,” she said. “I never look out the window at night! I get up and let the dog out, then we go back to bed.” She was treated to a blood-red moon with just a sliver of light around the edge. At first she thought the moon was behind a cloud, but the light was so sharp and bright, and the “cloud” so big and red and perfectly round, that it dawned on her, she was witnessing an eclipse!
We stood in the gathering dusk and talked about her child, the dogs resigned at our feet. “I think my son wanted me to get up and see the eclipse!” she told me. “When he was little I used to call him my moon-child.” Brown leaves rattled above our heads. Once again the moon had begun its nightly ascent, ghostly and enormous over the empty field at the end of our street.
This is the time of year that our loved ones on the other side are more accessible. Veils are thinner between the worlds, so it’s a great time to invite them in for a chat! You can do that any time; the more you do it, the more information you will get. Many departed family members, ancestors and friends are around us, part of our internal support system as we move through our lives.
My Gram makes herself known to me often. She was “hell on wheels” according to my cousins, but by the time my brother and I came along she was very gentle and accepting, at peace with herself. We adored her.
My neighbor and I talked about her son til the street lights came on. She told me how she thought of him every day, and talked to him when she couldn’t sleep. She poked at the crack in the sidewalk with her shoe. “I know it sounds silly,” she said.
Once in a reading, I connected with a woman’s deceased mother. I told the readee, “your mom loves it when you tune in and tell her about your day!” Briefly, she was at a loss for words. Then she said, “I do that all the time! Are you saying she can hear me?” I shared that with my neighbor.
Some people wish they’d expressed more appreciation for their loved one before they passed. You can do that today! You can do it next year. You didn’t miss your chance. Your family and friends don’t want you to have those regrets and, in spirit, there’s no space and no time. You can imagine you’re sitting with them at the end of their life, expressing your love. It can be very healing.
So in this beautiful, peaceful time, enjoy the support of those who have passed. If it feels like a stretch to have a conversation, just send them a hello! In 2010 I asked my two departed cats to let me know they were doing well in spirit. That day I saw a heart-shaped rock. It’s been 12 years and the rocks just keep coming! They appear everywhere, under all kinds of crazy circumstances, throughout the year. I see them when I’m not looking for them; they seem to fling themselves in my path. They still make me think of Chester and Maggie, but they’ve also become a regular sign that I’m seen, I’m heard and I’m loved no matter what, every day of my life.
Many blessings, and enjoy!
Rt. Rev. Katie Heldman is the Co-Director of Psychic Horizons Center, and wrote this article for the November 21st, 2022 eNews.