When Love Speaks From the Other Side

I recently listened to a podcast that reminded me of the many powerful ways our loved ones in spirit show us they never truly leave. They find countless ways to communicate with us, nudging us gently or simply letting us feel that they are still loving us deeply from the other side.

Personally, I’ve immersed myself in podcasts and books that reinforce this message. And I’ve felt it from my son, Graham, repeatedly. In fact, it was Graham’s powerful presence after his death—and the remarkable way he helped us find him—that first set me on this path of sacred spirituality and grief work.

And Graham has been incredibly creative in the ways he’s reached out. He uses most of signs and synchronicities that I’ve read and learned about--dreams, hearts, clouds, songs, signs, license plates. On the second anniversary of his death, Amelie and I were crying as we left his memorial bench at Blue Heron Park. Trying to offer comfort, I said, "I'm grateful that we know his spirit is with us always." Just then I pulled up behind a car and the license plate seemed to finish my sentence. "FOREVER." He also sends waves of energy—what some people call “God bumps”— or uses technology and subtle shifts in energy. And sometimes the messages simply arrive clearly and unexpectedly in quiet moments.

I’ve also come to realize that Graham seems to love facilitating connections. There have been far too many serendipitous encounters for me to believe he hasn’t had a hand in them.

The connections that came from our recent Sacred Journey With Grief Retreat feel especially meaningful. Deep down, I sense that Graham—and the loved ones of our retreat participants—were somehow part of bringing those connections together.

 I can almost picture them conspiring lovingly on the other side—meeting each other in the heavens and deciding it was time to introduce us.

Shortly after returning from Belize, one retreat participant shared a moment that felt like a nudge from her daughter in spirit. On an evening walk, she paused at a neighborhood library she’d passed hundreds of times without noticing. This time she looked inside. Three books on grief stood out to her. “Thank you, Hannah,” she whispered as she took all three.

I love when others share these moments with me-- it helps awaken my own sensitivities. And that's exactly what happened next.

Another way that Graham likes to guide me is by using his name. It’s not a very common name, so I pay attention when I hear it.

The very next day, a colleague whom I’d not yet met reached out to me. We had both taken the same Spiritually Informed Therapy class with Dr. Amy Robbins, the host of the podcast, Life, Death, and the Space Between. She was very interested in learning more about the IADC (Induced After Death Communication) training that I had pursued--partly because the trainer’s name was Graham.

As we spoke, I felt an immediate sense of connection, as if the meeting were destined. She was intrigued with the work and eager to share the retreat information with a family friend who had lost a son--a son whose name was Graham. What are the chances?

Then the next day, after listening to the podcast that reminded me of all the ways our loved ones in spirit show up for us, I found myself talking to Graham. I was thanking him, even laughing out loud, telling him, “I know you like to use your name to get my attention.”

Right after that, I grabbed a stack of books that I was planning to donate.  As I did, a loose sheet of paper slipped out. It looked like notes from a workshop or session. At the top of the page was the author’s name: Graham.

This timing felt too uncanny. Again, I laughed out loud.

“Okay, son, I’m not sure if you’re trying to tell me anything specific, or just telling me you’re here, but thank you!”

In that very moment, I found myself reflecting on some uncertainty I’d been feeling about a plane ticket I had reserved to return to Belize. I’d been invited back to Chaa Creek to stay with my friend Bryony to relax, write, spend time again in the nourishing rainforest where we’d just held our retreat. Part of me wondered if I needed to return so soon, even though I knew how restorative it would be. The ticket had been too good to pass up--nearly half the price of flights on any other day.

And that ticket just happened to be for March 17. Graham’s birthday.

In that moment, I knew it was not coincidence. It was guidance. I believe he is telling me to go.

When you notice those sensations—that feeling in your gut that tells you your loved ones are near—I encourage you to pause and trust it. Those subtle signs and synchronicities are worth acknowledging. Believe, know, and thank them. The more we open ourselves to these moments, the more we begin to notice them. It’s like learning a new language, and like any language, it takes practice.