The Gift of His Presence: a young man’s Christmas story.

Kelly is a natural-born Spirit channel, psychic medium and lightworker based in Singapore. A gifted oracle, she offers Angel and Tarot readings, animal communication sessions, and energy healing services.

“God bless ye, merry gentlemen, let nothing ye dismay.”

This is a Christmas story about a young man who was lost, and his family and loved ones who found healing.

Christopher was twenty-one, a tall and lean young man on the cusp of adulthood. He was an athlete, having represented his college in tennis. He came from a rather well-to-do family. His parents enjoyed a close relationship with him; his girlfriend Prissa adored him, and so did his dog, a huge black Labrador named Toby.

But Christopher had a secret that bore heavily on his broad young shoulders. Since young, he had suffered from depression and bipolar disorder. Only those suffering from mental illnesses, and the ones close to them, can truly understand the daily anguish of living in a constant state of emotional and psychological turmoil.

Due to the stigma of mental illness, Christopher, his family and girlfriend kept his secret to themselves. No one else knew what Christopher went through.

Then Christopher and Prissa had an argument at a Christmas Eve gathering (as people in love inevitably do) and Prissa raised her voice and yelled I think your bipolar is just an excuse for poor self-control, and if you have another relapse I’m not taking care of you, ever.

Whether Prissa meant it at the time, whether she ever meant it or only said it out of frustration – that no longer matters. Christopher took it very, very seriously.

Christopher vanished later that night.

Statistics on depression and suicide indicate that suicide attempts tend to peak during festive occasions. Whether Christopher intended to commit suicide that night is unclear, and isn’t important anyway.

What we do know is that Christopher was shirtless and barefoot, clad only in his jeans and with his ID in his back pocket, when he was knocked down and killed by a speeding car at about 3 am.

After the calls from the police, the identification of the body, the mind-numbing, soul-crushing arrangements for a funeral while others celebrated the birth of Christ, Prissa vaguely remembered a name and a number given to her when she was looking for a Tarot consultant. Fighting the endless tears and the deep brokenness of her spirit, Prissa called.

And asked for the psychic medium.

Not now, Prissa, the voice on the other end of the phone answered. Christopher is currently undergoing a difficult transition into the afterlife, as most suicides and sudden deaths do. He needs space to heal. So do you all. I’ll let you know when it’s time.

About six months later, when the psychic medium arrived at Christopher’s family home for the mediumship session, they were surprised at how young she looked. But once the session began, any doubts they had about her ability melted away. A natural-born Spirit channel and medium, she passed on messages from Christopher’s deceased grandparents and Prissa’s guardian angels; she also conducted some energy healing on Toby, who had been silently grieving the loss of his master and friend.

But Kelly, what about Christopher? Does he have a message for us? Christopher’s mother asked.

I need to apologise to Chris for what I said that night. I’m so sorry, Prissa said, weeping.

I want to know how my son is doing, Christopher’s father muttered sombrely.

Kelly shut her eyes.

She said, softly: He’s around, but his energy is weak. He’s getting used to life in the Spirit realm. He says he loves you all, and he’s sorry too. He’ll be back for Christmas this year.

How will we know? What are the signs? Christopher’s mother asked, the quiet desperation of bereavement straining her low voice.

He’ll do his best to let you know. And you will know.

*          *          *

“Silent night, holy night,
All is calm, all is bright.”

Six months on, and the next Christmas arrived like a thief in the night.

Christopher’s parents and Prissa followed Kelly’s – or rather, Christopher’s – instructions and held a cosy Christmas Eve dinner with some relatives and close friends. Christopher had specifically requested: Don’t coop yourselves up. Celebrate just as we used to. It’s also my first death anniversary, so celebrate my life. Enjoy the festive season with the people you love. I’ll be there with a gift – I promise.

At first, they were nervous, and had no idea why. But after the initial anxiety faded, Christopher’s parents and Prissa began to relax and enjoy themselves. They ate and drank. They shared their fondest memories of Christopher – his sporting talents, his deep laugh, his many lovable quirks. They laughed. They cried. They embraced.

Then at midnight, Toby began to bark at the front door.

Toby was always a quiet dog, smart and affectionate. But there was a joyous quality to Toby’s high-pitched barking and the glad, incessant wagging of his tail, a joy that silenced the party and brought tears to many eyes.

It was how Toby used to greet Christopher when he came home.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Do you smell that? Tell me I’m not going crazy, Prissa suddenly said aloud. Everyone looked at each other in quiet awe. The lights were shining brilliantly, much more brightly than usual – almost blindingly so. And the faint, but unmistakable scent of Christopher’s cologne was wafting through the air.

The fragrance lasted all of ten seconds, and then it was gone. The lights dimmed; Toby calmed down and went to nap in a corner, whimpering softly in his sleep. Christopher’s bereaved loved ones hugged each other and wept: with joy, with relief, with the deep consolation borne of profound grief and love.

Christopher had kept his promise: he had come for the party, bringing his Christmas gift – his presence from the Other Side. And with his return, Christopher brought healing and reassurance to his loved ones that Spirit outlives life itself, and Love is stronger than death.

“O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy.”

*          *          *          *          *

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Seeking to connect with Spirit? Please contact me for a consultation, and I’ll be with you soon:

Tel: +65 8716 9716 (call, text, WhatsApp)
Email: hello@kellylightworker.com
Or click here to submit a Contact Form.

How our loved ones in Spirit visit us, Part 2.

I’ve known June for about eleven years now. She owns a pet shop and a pet grooming service. Also, June is an independent community cat feeder, as well as an animal rescuer and foster. She was one of the first few people who came to my aid with advice and support when I picked up my first two animal rescues (two newborn kittens tied up in a plastic bag and thrown in a rubbish chute, whom I named Pip and Doe).

As you can guess, June has many animal companions, both living and deceased. She’s also not a huge believer in Spirit, so I don’t impose my beliefs on her by talking about the animal spirits I see in her shop – many of them her own deceased pets or rescues, crossing back over the Rainbow Bridge for a little while to visit her and send her love.

So I was surprised when June brought up the topic of deceased loved pets returning from the Light to visit.

“I believe they come back to visit. Usually as insects, really interesting looking ones. Here, have a look.” June took out her smartphone and began showing us pictures of brilliantly coloured butterflies and beetles, a moth with perfectly transparent gossamer wings, and a humongous grasshopper with its lower left hind leg missing.

“They all appeared within days of my animals passing on. The grasshopper’s story is really touching. A few days before, I rescued a large golden retriever that had been abused and abandoned. His left hind leg had been crushed by something heavy, and it was gangrenous. The vets had to amputate immediately at the knee joint to save his life. He survived the operation, but passed on the next day.

“We were heartbroken. Then on the seventh day of his passing, my assistant groomer saw this grasshopper perched at the front door of the shop. She took a photo, and it was only then that we realised it was missing a limb too. I think that dear dog wanted to come back to say thank you, and to let us know he’s fine now.

“So if you’re talking about whether animals have spirits and whether they come back to visit, I definitely can say now that I believe. There’s just too much proof not to believe.”

*          *          *

I often get asked by friends and clients how to notice the signs when their deceased loved ones return. Sometimes I’m also asked by grieving clients if I can invoke or summon them to appear at a mediumship session.

My response to invoking or summoning spirits, especially when the spirit is recently deceased and the bereaved person is asking from a place of desperate grief and sorrow, is No. It’s a bad idea.

When people and/or animals pass on, they undergo a process when their souls make a transition, leaving the physical body to move into the Light. There, they essentially start all over again: accepting and healing after the fact of their deaths, and learning how to function as Spirit without physical constraints such as space, time, the need to eat or sleep, etc.

They also get acquainted with an entirely new and different ecosystem. There is a lot to learn, especially if these souls weren’t believers when they were alive. Imagine having to get up to speed on Angels, elementals, earthbound spirits, entities, ley lines, Universal energies… you get the idea. And I haven’t even started on the Life Review yet!

So rushing a newly deceased Spirit to come back and visit you when they’re still handling so much on their end does not make for a good Spiritual connection. Two scenarios are likely to arise – I’m sharing them based on what I’ve learnt, observed and experienced:

  • The Spirit does turn up, but he/she is busy, distracted and possibly still traumatised from the transition process. Consequently, the messages aren’t clear and the connection isn’t strong or meaningful, disappointing everyone involved.
  • A slightly more risky outcome is this: an imposter appears. Sometimes, earthbound spirits, mischievous elementals or negative entities appear and pretend to be the deceased loved one. Their intentions usually are self-serving, sometimes even malicious, and rarely – if ever – benefit the living.

Some months back, I had to deal with a client who insisted on contacting her friend who had committed suicide less than 48 hours earlier. I had to keep explaining to her, over and over again, as patiently and clearly as I could, that the time wasn’t right for a connection. In response, her rude, sulky replies and passive-aggressive tantrums were pretty awful, and convinced me that her intentions for connecting with her recently deceased friend were more about self-entitlement than genuine concern.

As much as I understand that people who grieve for their deceased loved ones desire re-connection and closure, we can’t simply conjure Spirit for our own objectives. Here’s a way to connect with the Spirits of deceased loved ones without stressing them out or compromising your own safety:

  1. Pray. Prayer, when spoken from the truest depths of one’s heart and soul, is indescribably powerful. It doesn’t matter if you have a religion or not. If you don’t know whom to address your prayer to, just speak in your heart and mind to the Universe. Pour your heart out. Tell the Universe and Spirit how much you miss those persons and/or pets – they’re listening, and giving you love in any way they can.
  2. If you want to be specific in prayer, ask Archangel Michael (upholder of God’s truth), Archangel Raphael (guardian of healing), Archangel Gabriel (who specialises in emotional healing and communication), and/or Archangel Uriel (guardian of the earthly realm – he can help with deceased pets) for their assistance. Again, you don’t need a religion to connect with Angels and Archangels – they love you and are willing to help so long as you ask!
  3. When you pray, request with love and respect to the Universe for the Spirits of your deceased loved ones to connect with you at a time and in a way that is appropriate, for the greatest and highest good of all. Pray in faith, trusting that the Universe hears the cry of your heart, and that Spirit will do whatever it takes to make it happen.
  4. If you wish, you can ask for signs. Simple signs like a favourite song or scent, a dream, finding feathers or coins, or seeing a certain animal would be possible for a newly deceased Spirit to accomplish. Bear in mind that the final call is theirs to make, and keep your heart, mind and eyes open for their response.
  5. Be patient. In my experience with my own deceased loved ones, I’ve had some return to visit within hours of their passing, but I’ve also had one beloved soul who took 14 years to see me!

Some thoughts to round up this topic (for now):

Grief can feel like abandonment. Even when our minds tell us it’s inevitable for people and pets to pass on, our hearts and souls feel forsaken and rejected. That’s why grief hurts so horribly.

My heart goes out to you if you are currently experiencing a loss of a loved one. My comfort to you is this: think of death as your loved one leaving you, but only for a little while, to a faraway country where they must acclimatise before they can return to visit. And visit, they will.

May Universal Love, God’s Light, and every Spiritual blessing be with you.
Bless, Kelly <3

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking to connect and heal with Spirit? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation that best suits your needs.

The stories on this website (including the above recounts) are based on Kelly’s experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

How our loved ones in Spirit visit us, Part 1.

My paternal grandfather died when I was 13 or 14. We weren’t close; in fact, Grandpa had been estranged from the family for some time. When he finally did pass on, it was relief I sensed from my father and paternal relatives – not grief. Even my youngest aunt, who was his favourite child, didn’t cry that much during the wake.

A few days after the funeral, we woke up one morning to find a large grey moth perched at our front door. Its wings at rest measured roughly eight inches across, and it was big enough that our neighbours from across the street noticed.

We’re an ethnic Chinese family; our cultural traditions dictate that butterflies and moths are carriers of Spirit, and should one enter a house within a week after the death of a family member, it is to be respected as if the deceased relative had returned to visit.

“Grandpa’s back,” my mother whispered to me as we gawked at our visitor from a respectful distance. “Don’t disturb him. He’s watching over us, just to make sure we’re alright before he crosses over.”

The moth stayed at our front door for seven days. Imagine opening and closing a door with that huge insect a couple of inches from your face – If this is Grandpa watching over us, he’s definitely making up for lost time now, I thought to myself.

After the seventh day, the moth disappeared and never returned.

*          *          *

“He died last year. We’ve been waiting and keeping our eyes open for a sign, but… nothing. Could you please help me tune in to see if Daddy’s okay?”

The young woman across the table helpfully took out her mobile phone. “I can show you a picture of him if you’d like.”

– Sure, Charlene, that might be usef… No. It’s okay.

“… Kelly, you’re pale all of a sudden. Are you alright?”

When a deceased loved one appears, sometimes they validate their identity by sharing details of their death. Charlene’s father was making me experience a few moments of his passing by cardiac arrest. The excruciating, stabbing pain in my chest had caught me off-guard, leaving me gasping and reeling in shock. Soon after, a throbbing discomfort and metallic taste in my mouth told me that he’d probably bitten his tongue at some point until he bled.

Through a haze of pain, I looked up and glared discreetly at the spirit of the middle-aged man standing behind Charlene’s right shoulder.

(– Tone it down… hurts like hell.)
Oh sorry! I’ll stop it now, he replied, hands flailing apologetically.

Instantly, the torment ceased; with relief came clarity and a message.

– Charlene, your father wants you to know he’s fine. Also, he says he’s on his way with a sign.

Charlene nodded and shut her eyes tightly. “I hope so. I really do.”

The next morning, I woke up to a text with a picture of a brightly-coloured bird on a study table. The message read: “This little guy flew into my room last night and stayed for a few hours. It felt like how my dad used to come into my room and chat with me when he got home from work. Amazing!”

*          *          *

Many times, I’m asked by friends and clients if their deceased loved ones are doing well on the other side, and if they return to visit. This question is especially important for people whose belief systems teach them that the dead cannot and should not interact with the living.

Whatever deep and complex emotions they feel about their loved one’s passing is further complicated by powerful reactions such as fear (“if I keep missing them, I’ll hold them back from reincarnating or moving on”), guilt (“Connecting with the dead is the sin of witchcraft and I’ll be punished”), and regret (“I should’ve could’ve would’ve when they were still alive, but now it’s too late”).

Listen up, dear one, and know this: Love is stronger than death. Our souls are eternal; the song of true love can never be silenced by the grave.

Our deceased loved ones definitely return to visit us when they can. Many times, they also make it a point to leave signs that they’ve been hanging out with us. How they return, and what signs they use to communicate with us, depends on many factors including:

  • Cultural traditions and beliefs: For example, the Chinese believe that butterflies carry the spirits of the dead and the deceased loved one might choose that form since it’s a familiar symbol
  • The deceased loved one’s personal preferences: a deceased bird lover might return in the form of a beautiful bird
  • Our personal (or shared) preferences: a deceased loved one might play a song on the radio you love, or that you both loved.

Our job is to keep our hearts and minds open to the myriad ways our deceased loved ones reach out to us, and to maintain a mindset of gratitude for having known and loved our deceased loved ones. Gratitude opens doors like you can’t imagine. 🙂

You are accepted, cherished, and embraced by love – something that death can never overcome. Dear one, you are loved. And that’s something to be thankful for, every single day. <3

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking to connect with Spirit? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation that best suits your needs.

The stories on this website (including the above recounts) are based on Kelly’s experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

To the girl who says everything’s okay.

Dear you,

I met you the first time about a year ago. You came to me, distraught after the deaths of your best friend and your cousin within two weeks of each other. Their passing had shaken you to the core; Death woke you up and made you realise you didn’t want to be where you were in life. You were planning to make a major career change, and sought Spiritual insight into your decision.

The cards were encouraging and added one more piece of advice: If you really want to move forward, into your best life as co-creator of your highest destiny, ditch your boyfriend.

I was shocked at the cards – they’re not usually so blunt. I was even more shocked that you weren’t surprised at all.

Until you explained that you were lesbian.

“Kelly, I have big plans for my career and I can’t let this thing impede my potential,” you told me earnestly, as if your sexuality were a cancerous tumour. “He loves me, he’s a high-flyer himself, we make a good couple. He doesn’t know I’m gay. He doesn’t need to know. I’m fine. Everything’s okay.”

We met for another two Tarot consultations after that. Each time you arrived for your reading, I would notice your aura getting a little darker, your life force a little weaker. But that’s the price you pay for despising and hiding your true self, and if you choose self-deception and self-sabotage, the Universe will respect it.

We last met yesterday. Your face was haggard and grey – your life energy was critically low, and you were in denial about the fact that your soul had gone into self-destruction mode. You were late for the reading. I found your initial behaviour pompous, self-entitled and plain rude. It took you a while to let down your defences and become a faded, drained version of the sweet soul I used to know.

You were asking questions about your career, using phrases like How can I turn this to my advantage and What’s the takeaway from these cards, stock jargon that means absolutely nothing to your higher soul but that you mindlessly parrot because you have this deluded idea that successful people talk like that.

You deceased best friend was so concerned she popped up in the cards as the Queen of Rods – when you wanted to know the outcomes of working for another firm in the same industry – to say Stop, stop, what are you doing to yourself?

Your eyes filled with tears for a moment, then you suppressed them. “Everything’s okay,” you mumbled, gazing hopelessly at the Queen of Rods on the table. The hollow despair in your voice told me the exact opposite.

I don’t know if you will follow the advice given by the Tarot this time. It takes courage and honesty to see a counsellor and I’m not sure you have those qualities in you right now. As a human soul, you have been granted the gift of free will. You’re using this gift to pursue your foolish obsession with keeping up false appearances. Anything that is not true to what your higher soul wants will debilitate and ultimately destroy you, and if three Tarot consultations with me can’t persuade you to change course, I’m not sure I should offer you a fourth reading if you ask.

Dear you, you’re a mess.
And so long as you insist that everything’s okay, no one, not even God or the Archangels, can help you.

*          *          *

Dear you,

We’ve known each other for about six years now. When we first met, you were an undergraduate at a prestigious local university. You were slim – very slim. You also ate a lot, and disappeared into the bathroom several times during our meals together. It didn’t take a psychic to figure out what was going on.

In the face of overwhelming pressure – your parents were fighting incessantly, your brother was suicidal, your studies were stressful – an eating disorder became your way of taking control over your life. I empathised with your struggles, but you would smile and say, “Everything’s okay”. So I made you promise me to keep in touch and tell me if ever the day arrived that something was not okay.

I did not expect that early-morning call three years ago. You were screaming Oh my god Kelly, oh my god in between sobs and wordless, long-drawn wails. You had found your brother’s body in the bathroom when you entered to purge your meal. That early morning, his suffering had ended by his hand; yours had just begun.

You plunged into a clinical depression. Your bulimia morphed into anorexia – you simply stopped eating, and lived on one cup of coffee a day (black, no sugar). Your parents divorced. You kept thinking of taking your life. You knew you were on the verge of destruction.

Thank you for keeping your promise to tell me that everything was not okay.

You took a break from university for one semester to focus on your healing. You spent months crying yourself half-blind every day, crying so much you were sick of crying. You put aside your pride, your false sense of self-sufficiency. You spoke with therapists, went for reiki healing sessions, and found solace in religion.

Life broke you then. But Life has always loved you, and Spirit has never forsaken you.

Look at you now. The dark night of your soul is almost over. Your eating disorder still returns sometimes, but that beast lost its death grip over you a long time ago. Your parents have moved on and re-married other people, giving you the peace you never had when they were unhappily together. You miss your brother, but we connected with him during our mediumship consultation two months back, and now he’s watching over you with love from the realm of Light.

Best of all: congratulations on your recent graduation. I’m honoured to call you Doctor from now on. You chose to face your inner demons and your grief by specialising in psychiatry, dedicating your life to heal tormented souls and unquiet minds.

In the midst of your suffering, you dropped the lie that Everything is okay and, in losing that mask, you found your true self. You could have created more lies to protect yourself from the truth, or denied that you had any problems. Instead, you chose to acknowledge your darkness, to stand and fight, to co-create a destiny where you could find true happiness.

Dear you… well done, good and faithful soul.
I believe with all my heart that your life is only going to get better. There will be challenging times; but God loves you, the Universe is kind, and Spirit is cheering you on every step of the way.

And I just know that everything is going to be okay.

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking to connect with Spirit? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation where I can best assist you.

The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

 

“I’ll see you again.” A song for our loved ones in Spirit.

If you walked in now,
I wouldn’t start, I wouldn’t frown.
And if you just appeared,
I wouldn’t cry, or think it weird.
‘Cause you are still around;
You’re in the air, you’re in the ground.
And you can’t go away;
I am afraid you’re here to stay.*

She woke up with a start.

Her clock read 3:30 am. Again. Her bedroom door, firmly shut when she went to bed three hours earlier, was wide open.

The fragrance of jasmine incense lingered in the air. Her grandmother would burn it every morning. Her grandmother passed away nine months ago.

She got out of bed and, as she shut the door, whispered into the darkness:

– We are well, grandma. Please don’t worry about us.

*          *          *

Friends don’t understand,
They close the door, they raise their hands.
She says she hears your voice;
Of course she does, she has no choice.
I was hours ahead when they removed you from your bed.
They drank all the wine, until you said goodbye.*

“I hope you can help me. Nobody understands. They think I’m going mad,” Alice said.

Seated at the dining table, I looked around Alice’s flat. It was lovely, except for the deeply painful energies of Alice’s grief that pervaded the entire space. And the spirit of the deceased corgi that sat beside us, love and anxiety clouding her beautiful little furry face as she looked at me pleadingly.

“Sasha’s cancer spread so fast. We did everything we could for her. I was begging her to give me more time to help her find a cure, the right treatment, the right supplements. Then one day she just collapsed. We rushed her to the vet, but she was dead on arrival.

“It’s been two months but I still sense her around me. My family and friends are starting to say I need a psychiatrist. They say I’m just imagining things. But I swear I sometimes see her at the corner of my eye. And I cry for her everyday. I can’t let go, I just can’t -”

Alice began sobbing.

A spirit corgi’s paw gently patted my toes. Help us, please, angel lady, little Sasha whispered.

– Alice, you’re not going mad. Sasha is here with us. But my concern is that Sasha did not go into the Light after her death because she was worried that you would miss her.

Alice nodded tearfully. “Yes. I was afraid that once she crossed over, I’d never see her again. I told her not to go. I can’t live without her. She’s my best friend, my soulmate.”

– You have nothing to fear, Alice. It is necessary for all souls to cross over into the Light after their physical bodies die. This is required for their healing. But death is not the end, only a door. Your deceased loved ones can and often do return to visit. Alice, Sasha loves you, but she’s very tired and needs to heal in heaven. You need to heal too, and the first step is for you to face your grief, and release Sasha into the Light. Will you let her cross over?

Alice stopped weeping. “Am I hindering her healing with my selfishness? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Sasha, I’m so sorry…” Alice burst into a renewed fit of tears. My heart ached for them both.

– It’s fine, Alice. Now that you know, what do you choose?

“I choose to let go. Sasha deserves only the best… I love you, Sasha.”

I love you too, Mummy. And thank you, angel lady. I’ll be brave when I cross over. You’ll help me, won’t you?

True love gives us the courage, even in the depths of our despair, to do things we never would have thought possible. The bond between Alice and Sasha moved me deeply.

– I will do my best. I promise you both.

Later that night, I conducted a meditation where I invited Archangel Uriel, guardian of the earthly realm, to lead Sasha into the Light to receive her long-awaited healing. I also conducted a long-distance energy healing session for Alice, removing the dark energies of grief that were strangling her heart chakra, and filling her soul with divine love and light.

Healing from grief is a long process that requires time, patience and a lot of love to get through. Alice’s heart was broken, but I have faith that Alice and Sasha’s deep, abiding love for each other will stand the test of separation as they both heal. And one day, I am absolutely certain that Sasha will return to visit, and perhaps even watch over Alice as a spirit guide of Light.

*          *          *

Healthy in my dreams
Is what you are, is what it seems.
What does it all mean?
You’re only hiding behind a screen.
Curse the English day for what it forces us to say.
Banish all the pain;

‘Cause when I die, I’ll see you again.*

One of my best friends died this morning.

His death was completely unexpected. His caretakers had no idea – he was still conscious and responsive last night.

The last time I saw him was Sunday evening – two days ago. As we chatted, the phrase “one or two days more” kept flashing across my inner eye. But I chose to ignore it. Chose to deny it. Kept telling myself that he would get better.

But my gift was right, and I was wrong. Sometimes the gift can almost be a burden.

I rushed down once I got the text message, just in time to touch his cold face for the last time; to say goodbye to the physical shell that had endured so much suffering.

Death is not the end, only a door. True.
What’s also true is that the death of a loved one tears your soul apart like nothing else can.

I’m a lightworker. I channel Spirit. I see dead souls all the time. Of all people, I know pretty damn well that our deceased loved ones can and will return to visit us. We are not forsaken. We are not alone.

I know all this. But it hasn’t stopped me from crying for the past eight hours.

It doesn’t matter who you are – king or beggar, priest or prostitute, scientist or psychic medium – so long as you are alive, one day you will die. And in the course of your life, at least one person or pet you know (and perhaps love very much) will die, and your heart will break. This is the order of things. It is inescapable.

Yet we live our lives as if we were immortal, indestructible. And when Death finally touches us, we cry, we break down, we scream and look for someone to blame. As if Death were a big surprise – when the truth is that Death is only a matter of Time.

To everything in our lives, there is a season. Right now it’s the seventh lunar month, the season of remembrance and mourning for those who observe it.

My heart is with you all in this season of remembrance. Be kind to yourselves, and to each other. It’s what your loved ones in Spirit would desire for you.

Life is precious, and so very fragile. Be well.

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking to connect with deceased loved ones in Spirit? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation where I can best assist you.

The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

*Lyrics in italics taken from ‘When I Die’ by Lush (1994)

Death is not the end, but a door… that Spirit opens to visit.

We’re friends and sometimes we work together, but Mike and I aren’t close.

So when news of Mike’s mum’s passing finally reached me, it was two weeks after the funeral. By an awful coincidence, the day after his mum passed on, I’d called Mike to settle some work-related matters. Mike, being the strong silent type of guy and a consummate professional, didn’t mention it either. I only found out later, through a mutual friend. Agh.

A month passed. Two. We were both busy, didn’t contact each other much.

Until one night when I had a dream.

I was in a room filled with soft white light. She stood behind my right shoulder and wouldn’t show her face. I was guided to a large cork board hanging from the wall.

Pinned on the board: watercolours. Charcoal caricatures, the type you get done when you’re on holiday in a tourist trap like Venice. Polaroids, mostly faded. All of family.

I recognised one face in all of them.

“Yes. I’m his mother.”
— And your message?
“Tell him…”

*          *          *

I wasn’t sure at first. I was aware of Mike’s religious beliefs. I knew his religion taught that death was final, followed by judgement, heaven and hell. His faith took a strong view against psychic mediums. Also, Mike didn’t know this side of me (at that time, I wasn’t entirely out of the closet in terms of spirituality). Would it affect our relationship?

Well… nothing ventured, nothing gained.

So I called.

He was surprisingly open, and touched by his mother’s concern for the family even beyond this life. He even asked for advice on how to contact his mother himself — I didn’t expect this at all.

“Sometimes my mind still drifts to her when I’m working. I get into this headspace where I’m in a white room, having a conversation with her. Is it my imagination?”
— Have faith, Mike. That’s when she visits.

*          *          *

Mike wasn’t the only one touched by this experience. So was I.

I already know this well, but I was amazed yet again at how far our loved ones in Spirit will go just to make that connection with us.

Grief is a devastating force. Mike and his mum were close. When she left this earth, part of his soul died with her. She knew this — and planned her comeback.

As I mentioned, Mike and I aren’t close. I’d never met Mike’s family before. Still, she didn’t give up, didn’t stop searching for someone who knew Mike and who could serve as a channel of communication. In other words, a medium.

Mike is a good person, a popular guy with lots of friends. Could she have taken two months to search for someone within his social circle who could help out?

I don’t know.

I only know that death is not the end, but a door. A door that is sometimes shut, but never fully locked. And this door between the earthly and the spiritual realms is opened far, far more often than we think.

So the next time you find yourself daydreaming, and a reminder of someone who’s passed on suddenly pops in your head. A vision, a voice, a fragrance, anything.

Have faith. That’s when they visit.

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking to connect with deceased loved ones in Spirit? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation where I can best assist you.

The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

One word from her son’s spirit brings a grieving woman closure. Here’s how it happened.

I looked up and smiled brightly.
– Hi, you must be Linda! Have a seat.

“You’re young. And very casually dressed for a psychic reader.” Taking her seat across the table, the middle-aged lady in the navy blue power suit crossed her arms, flashing an elegant Rolex on her wrist and a tight smile on her meticulously made-up face.

Wow, that didn’t start off well, I thought to myself. What’s wrong with my floral dress and – OOPS.

A glance at my feet made me jump. I’d forgotten to change into my black heels before I left the house; my toes wiggled sheepishly in the tatty old flip-flops I usually wore to the supermarket. Did I mention that my pedicure was a month old and badly chipped?

And with that, we began the reading. Not a great way to start, I admit. And to be honest, I was annoyed with Linda, the new client who seemed all too ready to judge me based on my appearance.

Before every reading, I align myself with the highest Light to ensure that the messages I channel are of the highest Love, Light and Truth. Thankfully, my annoyance faded once I prayed and invited the Archangels to the reading, asking for help to see Linda with God’s love and compassion.

Linda was a self-made millionaire; unsurprisingly, her questions focused mostly on advice for her business (doing well), finances (buy the penthouse, but hold off on the Ferrari for now), and her thirty-year-old son (… because he might crash the Ferrari).

At one point, Linda showed me a photograph of her son, Raymond. I wasn’t exactly sure why a spirit looking exactly like Raymond was standing behind her. But with Spirit, there’s no such thing as a coincidence, and I was confident that clarity would come in time.

Then Linda asked, “I’ve been having strange dreams lately, but I can’t remember them when I wake up. Is it stress, or is there a spiritual cause?”

– There is someone behind you who looks just like Raymond.

This time, it was Linda’s turn to jump. She turned around to look, then turned back to look at me. Her eyes were filled with anger, guilt – and fear.

“How did you know? Who told you? Why is this happening?” Linda fired her questions at me rapidly, but the glassy panic in her eyes told me she wasn’t interested in answers. I kept quiet.

Linda calmed down after a few moments and took a sip of tea. After a while, she told me her story.

Linda was only sixteen when she discovered that she was pregnant. Her boyfriend at the time immediately broke up with her and disappeared. Afraid of her parents’ disapproval and beatings, Linda went to an illegal abortion clinic to get rid of her shame.

She suffered severe pain and bleeding, but the abortion was successful. She even saw the dead foetus herself… and with that heartbreaking sight, a part of Linda’s soul died that day.

Linda thought her problem was solved. Until three months later, when Linda checked into a hospital emergency unit for a bladder infection and discovered that she was still pregnant. Unknown to her and the abortionist, Linda was expecting twins. Only one twin had been aborted; Raymond had survived.

“I couldn’t do it again. The first time, I went for the abortion out of fear. Fear of being looked down on by society. I thought my life was over. This time I decided that Heaven had given me a second chance. Life would be hard, but I would give my son the life I never had.”

Linda left home and went to work in a neighbouring country. For the next thirty years, she worked her way up from a factory worker to a supervisor and trusted shareholder. An unforeseen stroke of luck led to her buying over the factory at a bargain when her boss went bankrupt.

A gifted businesswoman, Linda capitalised on the rise of the Internet and later, the social media to increase sales of her product, making her first million within three years. The rest, as they say, is history.

Linda only introduced Raymond to her elderly parents after she’d bought them a beautiful apartment in retire in. “To prove to them that I wasn’t useless, that their good-for-nothing daughter had made it big. Raymond was sixteen – the age I was when I gave birth to him. They were so shocked, they couldn’t speak.”

With a twinge of guilt, I realised that I had been wrong to get annoyed with Linda for what I perceived as her judgemental attitude. Linda had not meant for her comments to be hurtful; she was speaking from thirty years of pain at being judged by society, and fighting for her son’s sake to overcome and succeed in life.

The spirit behind Linda stepped forward to speak into my ear.

– Linda, the spirit of the child you aborted is here. He wants you to know that he forgave you thirty years ago, even as you were undergoing the abortion. He says he’s been visiting you in your dreams, to ask you to forgive yourself. But you’re blocking him out because it’s too painful to remember him.

Sombrely, Linda asked: “Is there anything I can do for him?”

– Yes. He says that you need closure, and you will receive it once you tell him his name. He died without a name, and you feel incredibly guilty about it.

Linda nodded silently, her eyes staring deeply into her tea. Finally, she spoke one word. A name:

“Richard.

“All these years, I told myself that if only I’d kept him, his name would be Richard. If only.”

For a moment, Linda’s eyes dimmed with tears. She shut her eyes. Richard smiled, leaned forward and pecked his mother on the cheek.

Then the moment passed, and Richard was gone.

Linda opened her eyes and looked at me curiously. “I thought I felt something brush against my cheek. It was Richard, wasn’t it?”

– Yes.

Linda smiled. This time, her smile wasn’t forced, but genuine and joyful. After thirty years of struggle, Richard had finally reconciled with his mother, and she could begin to heal.

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking closure to unresolved issues? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation where I can best assist you.

The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

A little boy’s spirit returns to heal his family… one step at a time.

She calls him Happy Feet.

Because that’s all she sees of him – a pair of child’s bare feet, glowing hazy blue and more visible at night, pattering here and there behind her as she works on her computer. He skips around her room, silent but never still, telephatically inserting pieces of his childhood memories into her mind.

Pink lilies. It’s not Mummy’s fault. Look at the birds! Run, run up the escalator. I never went to school like my brother. Hahaha.

He’s been with her for a week now. Sometimes he follows her to her oracle card consultations, little feet scampering up and down the escalator nearby while she meets her clients at a café.

She knows he’s probably connected to someone who’s just booked a consultation with her, or is about to. She is known in the spirit realm as a channel between two worlds, and spirits can’t wait to make contact with her once their loved ones on earth make the appointment.

Most spirits who contact her make their agenda known, clearly and immediately. Happy Feet hasn’t told her whom he’s here for. Not yet, but no rush.

All in good time. Once the deceased loved one appears, eventually, so will the living.

*          *          *

We’d gone through the usual questions a successful businessman with a beautiful young family would ask: career, finances, health, and relationships with various people in his life. All good so far.

The buffalo wings, stuffed potato skins, beer (for him) and Coke Light (for me) arrived. Consultation over, I put the cards aside and we tucked in.

I enjoy getting to know my clients as the unique and wonderful people they are… especially over food.😉

The conversation was great fun, and eventually turned to our childhood experiences with the supernatural.

“You say we all have spirits around us, guiding us. Do I have any around me right now?”

– Yes, of course.

“Really? Wow.” He chuckled. “Tell me who they are.”

– Mmmm sure. Lemme finish this tater skin first. IT’S SO GOOD.

“Yeah! We should order more…”

I never went to school like my brother.

Oh hello, Happy Feet.

A pair of hazy blue feet stood shyly between us, toes facing my client.

“… So who’s around me?”

– A young boy. He was about five or six when he died. He’s very fond of you. He calls you brother.

My client stopped smiling. He paused, as a dark and sudden flash of sorrow surged through his eyes. Finally, he spoke:

“I was a baby when he died. Freak accident. He was running up the escalator. Then he slipped, fell backwards and hit his head. My mum was holding me in her arms… She watched him fall. He never woke up.

“She blames herself to this day. She still thinks she could’ve reached out and grabbed him. Saved him… somehow.”

– Will you let your mother know that he says it’s not her fault?

He looked doubtful. “We’ve told her that for years. She says only my brother can say that to her.”

– Alright. Then tell her that your brother is showing me pink lilies. This could be the confirmation she needs.

“Okay. I’ll keep you posted.”

Later that night, he texted me.

“My mother put pink lilies at his grave during the funeral. She says thank you.”

*          *          *

Animal spirits are awesome. She’s really enjoying this latest one: a large grey tabby cat with a crooked tail, appearing every night to roll around on her bed.

Fat Tabby hasn’t told her whom it’s here for. Not yet, but no rush.

All in good time. Once the deceased loved one appears, eventually, so will the living.

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking to connect with Spirit? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation where I can best assist you.

The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

A grandma’s spirit helps her granddaughter to move on. Here’s their story.

When she sleeps, she often dreams.

Of different realms, where many, many souls reside. They welcome her warmly, a visitor from the land of the living, and tell her their stories.

She is recognised in these realms for her soul’s gifts and calling as a Spirit messenger. Sometimes they ask her to pass on messages to their loved ones. When they make the request, she smiles and asks them to make it happen – to set up the circumstances where she can pass on the message to its intended recipient.

Very often, they gladly do.

*          *          *

“I read your articles and felt I had to contact you. I’ve been in a slump for a while. Any advice would be appreciated.”

I smiled at Lydia, the new client across the table, and began to shuffle the cards. Meanwhile, the white-haired old lady’s spirit who had been following me since a week before smiled at Lydia as well, her eyes overflowing with love and pride.

The Tarot spread indicated stagnation in career and family life. Much of the stagnation seemed to have originated in unresolved grief. A deep loss in the previous year had occurred, and Lydia could not move on from it.

“My grandma,” Lydia muttered as she looked down at the table. “She passed on from a brain tumour four months ago. She raised me up after my mother re-married.

“My grandmother was my life.”

*          *          *

My granddaughter was my life. The spirit of the old lady says gently, while pouring freshly brewed tea into two cups. Would you like a scone?

She looks around. This time, she’s in a cosy living room with many framed photographs on the walls. She sips the sweet hot tea and enjoys a buttered scone: despite the old superstitions which warn against accepting food or drink from spirits, she knows there is no danger in accepting the old lady’s generous hospitality. Plus, calories don’t count in dreams.😉

Thank you for coming here today, my darling. The old lady smiles. Tell her my hair is back to what it was. I’m fine now, and my granddaughter needs to look after herself.

She nods, mouth full of soft buttered pastry. Then she gets up from her comfy armchair and looks at the photographs on the wall. Many of them are of a young lady in tortoiseshell-framed spectacles.

*          *          *

Lydia took off her spectacles and wiped the tears from her eyes with a napkin.

“When her hair fell out from the chemo, I couldn’t take it. I would look at her bald scalp and cry in shock. She didn’t cry, I knew she was trying to be strong for me. But I couldn’t stop crying. She was my strength, and she was falling apart before my eyes.”

– I understand she used to get her hair done quite often at the hairdresser’s. She was very proud of her hair.

“Yes. And you know what?” Lydia’s voice turned low and savage. “After she lost her hair, I started visiting her at the hospital less and less. I couldn’t face the fact that she was dying. Luckily my grandma was only semi-conscious from the morphine most of the time so she didn’t notice. She died when I was at work. But now I have to live with the guilt of being so selfish. I was so stupid, and now she’s gone and I couldn’t say sorry and goodbye.”

The weight of confession was finally lifted from her soul. Lydia broke down and wept.

– Lydia, your grandmother is well. She’s here with us right now. Her hair is thick, luscious, and a gorgeous silver-white. It’s immaculately permed and comes down her shoulders. There are sparkly hairclips on both sides of her temples; she’s rocking the ‘50s bombshell vibe. Does the description fit?

Lydia nodded and stared at me, the last of her sobs fading. “Yes. Yes, that’s my granny. That was her hairstyle when I was a little girl. It was my favourite look.”

– She wants you to know she’s fine. You need to move on from the grief and take care of yourself. She may have passed on physically but in Spirit, she’s with you and watching over you. Is there anything you’d like to say to her?

“Yes.” Lydia squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Granny,” she whispered, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you left. I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye. I miss you every day. I love you, Gran. Bye-bye.”

– Your grandma hears your every word, Lydia. I see her smiling and nodding at you. She says you’re her darling. And now I see her being escorted by the angels and returning to the realm of light. She’s newly departed and she needs some more time to get used to being a spirit. But she will come over and visit whenever she can.

“… Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

*          *          *

When she sleeps, she often dreams. This time, she’s attending a potluck gathering in a large, wood-panelled barroom.

There’s lots of laughter and singing. In a corner, an impromptu darts competition has begun. She sits on a barstool, eating roast turkey and sipping a Bailey’s that a kindly old gentleman had offered her.

Here, calories don’t count, and there’s no danger in accepting Spirit’s generous hospitality. Astral projection can be exhausting, so she might as well enjoy it.

She is recognised in these realms as a Spirit messenger. Sometimes, they ask her to pass on messages to their loved ones. Already, a large border collie has boldly made his presence known, sitting next to her and accidentally-on-purpose brushing his wet doggy nose against her leg.

She smiles, and asks him to make it happen.

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking to connect with Spirit? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation where I can best assist you.

The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.

My client got a message from her mum’s Spirit. Her response made me LOL!

A mother’s love can make you laugh and cry.

Lili, a young undergraduate, had arranged to see me. She was graduating soon, and wanted insight into some important career decisions. She also wanted advice for her family back in China.

Lili called at noon; we arranged to meet at 3. Great, I thought. That gives me time to run errands.

I should have known I would receive a surprise visitor in my room.

Tiny golden specks appeared, as if blown in from outside the window. They swirled playfully in the air around me for a moment, before flying past me, behind me, and finally…

I turned. At the door stood Lili’s mother, who had passed on when she was eight.

With a loving smile and a gentle shake of the head:

That girl, she said. You tell that girl!...

*        *        *

Well-dressed and polite, Lili got up to shake my hand when I arrived at the meeting place. A mother’s pride, indeed. And like all mothers, she walked in right behind me: to see her beloved girl, and to make sure I did what we had agreed on.

Spirits have personalities just like us. Everyone, both living and dead, belongs to Spirit after all. This mother was a feisty one, and insisted that I start with her message:

You eat too much junk food. You’re addicted to pizza! Didn’t your grandmother tell you to eat healthily? I was there at the airport! I heard every word. No more pizza and you’ll stop gaining weight. Take care of your health!

Lili stared at me, stupefied, while I relayed the message. Silence, as she took it in. Then a look of shock on her face as she blurted out in Chinese: “Mama can speak English now?!”

I had to laugh. She laughed with me. And slowly, like a gentle rain, her tears began. As a homesick young woman was reminded that she was loved, by those on earth and those in Spirit, even in a distant land.

*          *          *          *          *

Seeking insights into attaining your best and highest good? Please call, text or WhatsApp Kelly at +65 8716 9716, or email hello@kellylightworker.com and we’ll arrange a consultation where I can best assist you.

The stories on this website (including the above recount) are based on Kelly’s personal and professional experiences as a lightworker. Some details have been changed to protect the identities of the individuals involved.