I never imagined that my life would take the turn it did after my father was killed. At the time, I wasn’t a spiritual person. I didn’t see spirits as a child. I didn’t have mystical visions or know anything about energy or mediumship. I was just an ordinary woman, doing her best to navigate everyday life — until that moment shattered everything I thought I knew about my existence.

My father was pushing my daughter in her stroller to, what I believe was to have lunch. They were walking in the desert when a woman who was driving erratically swerved from the far left lane across three lanes of traffic and into the desert. My father, having seconds to react, pushed my daughter out of the way, saving her life. The woman kept driving, and even went to work and clocked in.

When my dad was killed, the pain was unbearable. The grief changed my on so many levels. Grief takes the world as you know it and forces you to see through an entirely new lens. I remember feeling desperate to know where he was, if he was okay, if he still existed somewhere “out there”. In my heart I knew he did, but I wanted to know for sure. That deep longing to stay connected with him became the spark that ignited my spiritual journey.

At first, I searched for comfort in books about the afterlife, near-death experiences, and spiritual connection. What began as curiosity turned into a profound awakening. I started feeling his presence around me in quiet, undeniable ways, such as a familiar scent, a song that played at the exact right moment, or the gentle warmth that would fill the room when I thought of him. These weren’t coincidences. They were love letters from the other side. I just didn’t know it all at the time.

Eventually, I decided to learn more. I enrolled in mediumship classes, read everything I could, and practiced sitting in the power, which is a form of meditation where the physical and spiritual worlds begin to merge. It wasn’t easy. I doubted myself constantly, wondering if I was imagining it all. But every time I surrendered my need to control or “prove” what I felt, the connection grew stronger. I realized that mediumship isn’t about perfection, but instead it’s about presence, love, and trust.

Over time, I began connecting not only with my dad but with the loved ones of others. The first time I delivered a message that brought comfort and tears of relief to someone else, I knew this path wasn’t just about my healing — it was about helping others heal too.

 

Losing my father opened the door to something extraordinary. It taught me that death isn’t an ending; it’s a transformation. Our loved ones don’t disappear. They simply move into a new form of existence, waiting for us to remember how to listen (and we do innately already know how, we have just forgotten). And when we open our hearts, we find that communication with spirit isn’t something reserved for a chosen few. It’s a birthright we all share.

If you’re reading this and you’ve lost someone you love, please know this: they are still with you. Their love didn’t end — it just shifted. The signs you notice, the warmth in your chest, that fleeting thought that feels like their voice, my advice is to trust it. Those moments are reminders that you are never alone.

My father’s death was the most painful experience of my life, but it became the catalyst for my greatest awakening. It led me to discover my purpose: helping others remember that connection with spirit is not only possible but beautifully natural.

We are all born with intuitive gifts waiting to be awakened. Sometimes, it takes heartbreak to open the door — but once it opens, it reveals a love that never dies.

Xoxo,
Melinda