I am re-running this blog post due to the number of emails I have received from family members missing their loved ones this holiday season.  Having lost our daughter, Sgt. Susan Marie Giesemann-Babich, USMC, we understand grief.  But we also understand the healing and comfort that comes from knowing our Susan is still very much around her.  May this blog post bring you comfort as you enjoy the holiday season with the awareness that your loved ones on the other side are enjoying it with you, even if you cannot feel them …

Perhaps you remember what happened in my memoir, Messages of Hope, after I connected a woman named Connie with her mother and father who had passed.  She then sent two of her sisters to me for a reading on separate occasions without telling me that they were her sisters.  I was confused as to why I sensed such similar evidence from a mother and father in three different readings.  Only when the sisters identified themselves did I realize that I had been set up as a way of testing if the connection with the other side was genuine.  I actually thought their subterfuge was great.  It allowed the three sisters’ parents to clearly show that they had survived the transition called death.

Fast forward to present day. Several months ago I received an email from a woman who provided only two first names.  She had seen by the
calendar of events on my website that I would be speaking at a conference in Chapel Hill, NC, this past weekend.  She inquired if it would be possible to have a reading in person at that time and I agreed.  Normally I give priority to those on my waiting list, but because I am traveling for six months most of my readings are by phone.  While the connection with those on the other side is just as good as in person, I miss
the more personal interaction with the sitter that a face-to-face reading affords.

I greeted my sitter, who appeared to be about thirty years old.  I asked her if she had a long
drive to get to my hotel.  When we had confirmed the appointment by phone, I noticed a South Carolina phone number.  She replied that the drive was three hours, and that she had stayed in another hotel the night before.  I mentally sent up a prayer that her time and expense would be well rewarded with a strong connection with the loved one she hoped to connect with.

As soon as the session began I sensed a male presence and heard “Daddy dearest.”  When I reported that this fatherly figure felt very happy to see her and was giving her a big hug, she laughed with delight.  Next I reported that he was indicating a connection with North Carolina’s “research triangle” and was talking about a professor. My sitter stated that she was a professor and had graduated from one of the research triangle universities.  We were off and running!

Then Dad said as clear as day, “Mom is here.”  I reported this verbatim to my sitter and asked, “Is your mother on the other side?” I couldn’t help but think that she was awfully young to have lost both parents. When she claimed that her mother was alive, I responded, “So maybe your father is talking about his mother.  Is she on the other side?”  Again, the
answer was no.  Puzzled because his words had been so clear, I said, “Then why would he say, “Mom is here?”“Well, my mom is here.”

Even more confused, I said, “You mean in the hotel?”  “Well, she’s actually sitting in the car outside.”  Thrilled that the father in spirit knew his wife had come with his daughter, I asked if my sitter would like her mother to join us.  The young woman then informed me that her mother had already had a reading with me. Surprised, I realized it would be much more fun to ask the father who his wife was than to ask my sitter who her mother was.   I have given approximately 1000 readings, so the woman could have been one of many grieving widows anywhere in the country.  As soon as I asked the father in spirit, he showed me his wife sitting across from me with her other daughter in a reading I conducted two years earlier.  When I stated what I was seeing with particular details of that occasion to my sitter, she confirmed that I had correctly placed her with her family.

I had been set up again.

“Get your mother up here!” I said with excitement, adding, “but only if you want her here.”

I could feel Dad’s energy hanging around as my sitter placed a call and we dragged in another chair from the hallway.  I hugged Mom when she walked in the door, and gently teased both of them about not telling me what they were up to.

“She’s a scientist,” Mom stated.  “She needed proof.”  And minutes later when we resumed the
conversation with Dad, he showed me several insects under a magnifying glass,
prompting me to talk about biology, which turned out to be his daughter’s specialty.

Having given the proof they needed to know that he was present, Dad proceeded to give a tremendously wise and comforting series of messages that focused on how to move forward in the grieving process.   Little did I know that Mom had reached a low point in spite of her previous reading.  It seems that Dad knew his wife needed the reading more than his daughter the scientist.  After every few loving suggestions for healing he threw in verifiable pieces of evidence that I could not know to show that he was still very much present in his family’s life and that his healing messages were not merely platitudes from me.

At the end of a teary, love-filled session, we laughed again at how mother and daughter had set me up.  They assured me that it hadn’t really been a test.  If not, then the set-up came from the other side.  This actually happens quite often.  I receive more requests for readings than I can handle. I have learned to ask my Team above which unanticipated requests I most need to honor.  I never know until I give the reading why I say yes to some and “I’m sorry, but not at this time” to others.  Clearly, this family reunion was meant to happen exactly as it had.

The two worlds are so very connected.  What joy it brings to show this to a family and help to assuage their grief.  I so wish I could do this personally for all who desire this experience.  For now, it is my fervent wish that in sharing this story these words bring hope to others who have endured a loss , helping them and you to know that our loved ones who have passed are as close as our breath.