I do intuitive readings because of my best friend, Tim. We met in 1982 and have been inseparable since. We shared everything. Our dreams and aspirations and also our dark times. Tim was the first person I had confessed to, about my psychic gifts. Tim’s authenticity quickly drew me out of my introverted shell. In return, I turned him onto the spiritual realm and other creative outlets. I was comfortable sharing my psychic strengths with Tim because I could finally be myself for the first time. Something I’d never experienced before. Nor had Tim.
Tim was diagnosed with AIDS in 1989. Our friendship deepened to levels I’d never known. Tim was “realistic” as he would say, about his illness. When his boss suspected that Tim was, “one of them sick people,” he was immediately fired. In true Tim form, the next morning he marched down to Duke Medical Center and volunteered, full time helping patients and their families fighting the same disease. There Tim became great friends with leading-edge doctors, nurses and psychologists that also fought the good fight.
For the next three years my waking thoughts were about making Tim comfortable as he lost more weight and declined in body and mind. My hourly prayer was, “Please guide me on how to be there for my best friend.”
Tim and I would stay up for hours talking about the afterlife, wondering if it was real. We’d ask, do angels exist? Do we have spirit guides? Can dead people send messages to us? Do deceased loved one’s know we think about them? Do we really meet our deceased loved ones when we cross over to the other side?
Questions like these set my soul ablaze. Over time I gave Tim answers to every question that we’d ever had about the afterlife, so that when his time came to cross over, Tim would know in his heart of hearts that he was going to heaven, even though he was gay.
On January 15, 1993 Tim peacefully took his last breath and passed away surrounded by his family and me, each of us absolutely knowing Tim was in heaven.
… I’ll Cover You With A Love
January 15th marked Tim’s, 32nd year in heaven. That Wednesday morning, I followed my regular routine. I woke up and said hello to Tim and continued chatting Tim up before heading to Vons for my two shots of expresso. While waiting for my beverage order, I still communicated back and forth with Tim telepathically.
Because talking to the dead at a Starbuck’s kiosk is frowned upon – even in Los Angeles.
In my mind’s eye, Tim showed me a picture. It was of a pencil sketch I drew for him in 1990 as part of his birthday gifts. I had drawn Tim and I together with the words to Taylor Dayne’s song, “I’ll be Your Shelter.” For both Tim and I, her lyrics expressed our devout promise to be there together every step of the way.
As the image of that sketch slowly faded in my mind, it was replaced with a soft picture of Tim’s face. He grinned, pointed his index finger up with one hand, then cupped his other hand behind his ear and said, “Listen up Queen.”
I was like, “Ah! No, you didn’t!”
My coffee order was up. I took it, thanked the barista and walked to the card aisle waiting to hear what Tim meant by listen up. Seconds later, I heard Taylor Dayne’s lyrics bumping through the speakers at Vons. I smiled with tears in my eyes. Not sad tears. Soothing.
I walked to my car smiling. A soft, “I love you, Tim”, slipped past my lips. He answered, “I love you too”. Taylor’s lyrics softly wove in and out of my heart for the rest of the day.
…So Deep and Warm and True
As I said earlier, I do intuitive readings and I connect with spirit guides and departed loved ones. It’s what I’m born to do. I’ve known this since I was five years old. But it took Tim’s love to pull me out of my old beliefs and help me step into my true life’s calling.
Tim accelerated my desire to learn about navigating our soul-human experience on both sides of the spiritual veil. Something I was blessed to help Tim traverse. The first time we met, we were best friends. We knew that we’d known each other before. We were hard wired to elevate one other, and others, usually as we laughed our assess off.
One month before Tim died, he made me promise to keep up my intuitive gifts of helping others, after his passing. I promised him that I would.
He said, “I’ve known you for eleven years, and the happiest I’ve ever seen you is when you are helping others by connecting with the spirit world.” Which is true. I have always loved all things metaphysical, but could not share it with others – until Tim.
But, I digress.
After decades of studying how the nonphysical realm operates, I’ve learned there is no such thing as death. Life is eternal. The best description I’ve ever read about the human and spirit connection comes from Henry Schott Lolland, a former Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford. He writes,
“Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.”
…I Will Be There
Isn’t that beautiful? It has taken me decades to get to an emotional space as not to feel heavy grief about my best friend’s passing. And Mama and Soapy and so many other loved ones dear to me. Today communication with them is consistent, fluid. I have raised my beliefs. I know we are pure energy. I am a soul with a body at the moment and Tim is a soul without one. It’s not our words that connect us, but our heart’s purest intentions.
Which brings me to something Bashar said. “Love is the frequency of existence itself. It means you are always unconditionally supported, no matter what you choose. It means you are free to be who you truly are.”
Tim effortlessly drew me out of my limited beliefs and I can honestly say that it was an honor to return the favor. It was our shared love and friendship that allowed both of us a safe space to finally be our true selves in life – and in, the afterlife.
With Appreciation Always,
