The Space Between Here and Home

I’m in a season of life where I’ve said goodbye to many people I love. Family members, dear friends, souls who have shaped my journey in countless ways. Now, as I hold space for others navigating serious and life-ending illness, I find myself stretched, deepened, and changed.

Even with all I’ve learned through my work as a psychic medium, loss still hurts. Knowing what lies beyond doesn’t spare us from grief; it simply gives it meaning.

When it is our time to leave this planet, the energy that is our essence simply slips free of its human suit. There’s often a moment of realization that the soul has fully left the body, followed by an overwhelming pull toward light, love, and home. In that space, loved ones and spirit guides wait to welcome us back into a dimension where love has no edges and time moves differently.

I believe that after we cross, we move through a kind of life review, seeing our experiences from the soul’s perspective. We feel both the joy we created and the pain we caused, not as punishment, but as profound learning and growth.

So many who return from near-death experiences describe the same transition. They speak of peace and unconditional love so vast it changes them forever. They recall meeting loved ones, reviewing their lives through compassion, and realizing they were never truly alone. These stories echo what Spirit so often shows me in readings: death is not an ending, but a rebirth back to our original home.

My mother’s own near-death experience remains one of the most powerful confirmations of this truth. She described walking along a grassy path bordered by red flowers, with luminous beings waiting in the distance. That vision changed her and it changed me. It reminds me still that what awaits us is not darkness, but love.

From the soul’s perspective, our time here is just a blink. Earth is a sacred school where we come to learn and grow. Some souls return again and again, while others move on to other realms of study. Each of us is weaving our experiences into the great tapestry of consciousness itself.

Knowing that we continue eases the weight of grief, but it doesn’t remove the need to grieve. Our hearts and bodies must still move through pain. Grief helps us release what we cannot hold alone. When walking alongside someone with a terminal illness, acceptance becomes one of the most sacred stages. It allows us to stay present, to honor every emotion, and to let love move freely.

There is so much fear in our culture around death. We avoid it, deny it, and sometimes prolong suffering in our attempts to hold on. But death is not life’s opposite; it is part of its sacred rhythm.

Embracing death’s mystery deepens our appreciation for life. It softens us, clarifies what truly matters, and reminds us to love without reservation.

This season of my life, where death has been so present, is teaching me so much about living. Each moment, even the hard ones, carries something sacred. Remembering that consciousness continues helps me stay grounded in gratitude. The bonds we share don’t dissolve when the body does; they shift, expand, and take new forms.

I’ve seen again and again that healing continues on the other side. When relationships are strained on Earth, there’s often an opportunity for deeper connection and forgiveness after crossing. Spirit reminds me always that love doesn’t end. It transforms.

Even after years of doing this work, I’m still amazed by the way loved ones come through during readings. They share details so personal, a favorite phrase, a scent, a private moment, that it can only be them. They remind us that love endures. Death is not a wall, but a doorway.

Spirit continues to show me that the veil between worlds isn’t a wall; it’s a shimmer. And when we remember that, we live with less fear, more presence, and a lot more love.