The Irrepressible Spirit of Carly Hughes

I know what grief feels like.  When my step daughter was struck by lightning at age 27 and killed along with her unborn child, the pain was nearly unbearable.  That’s why, when I received an email from Irene Vouvalides, a grieving mother who expressed a desperate desire to connect with her recently deceased daughter through a medium, I moved her to the top of my waiting list. 

We conducted the session by phone.  I had no idea what Irene or her daughter looked like.  The only thing Irene had told me in advance was that Carly had died of esophageal cancer.  This lack of details in advance is my preference.  It meant that anything I sensed would be directly from the spirit of Irene’s daughter.

A good signal across the veil is never guaranteed, but the connection with Carly turned out to be the kind I pray for:  “five bars,” like the cell phone signal that connected her mom and me during that hour-long reunion, complete with imagery, physical symptoms in my body, and a sense of presence that left no doubt that Carly was on the line.

Afterwards, I went straight to my computer, opened a browser, and typed in “CarlysKidsFoundation.com” as directed by Irene.  When the homepage opened, I sucked in a breath.  The banner showed an image exactly like the one that had flashed through my mind’s eye early in the reading. 

“I’m seeing little black boys,” I had said to describe the fleeting image of a young blond woman with her arms around two smiling African-American children.  By this time I had already heard the word “teacher” from Carly, and Irene had confirmed that her daughter’s degree was in education.  I correctly sensed that Carly held some kind of administrative job, and asked, “Did she work in a system that was racially inclusive?  There’s something about race."

“Absolutely,” Irene exclaimed, her excitement palpable through the phone.  “She did service trips to the oldest African American Catholic school in the Mississippi Valley, and that’s what the focus of our foundation has been.

“She got to hug some of those kids, and it was her greatest joy,” I reported.

“Oh yes,” Irene confirmed.  “I have pictures of her hugging them.”

Staring at Carly’s Kids website now, I shook my head.  Anyone who didn’t know the value I place on integrity might have suspected I had Googled Irene and her daughter before the reading.  To do so is unthinkable.  I know firsthand the immense healing and comfort that come from hearing verifiable details known only to the family from a loved one we think is gone forever.  It was just such an experience with a medium that led me to uncover my own ability to communicate with those who have passed.  The opportunity to pay that gift forward is one I hold sacred above all else.

Happily, Carly provided many details in the session with her mother that could not be found on the Internet.

“She shows me you holding a teddy bear against your chest, like snuggling with this … getting comfort from a stuffed animal.”

“She had a bear that she got when she was born,” said Irene.  "She slept with it every night, and now I hold it to my chest and smell her in it.”

“She puts a ring on your hand … on the right hand.”

“I do wear one of her rings on my right hand.”

"It feels like she was cremated, and there are hands in the ashes like you are sifting through them.  It’s very specific.”

“Yes, she was cremated, and my husband and her boyfriend separated them into small containers"

“I’m seeing a big mountain with a K … K sound to the mountain.”

“Her boyfriend was in Africa climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro when she passed.

“He shouldn’t feel guilty about not being there.  There’s a feeling that she’d like to be more adventurous, but she was not quite matching him.  I feel like I just want to curl up on a couch with a nice, soft blanket and be snuggled in."That’s what she did.”

“I have shooting pains in my head.  I’m light-headed and dizzy.  Arterial blockage.  Clotting of some sort.  It’s like I bled out.”

“Carly fainted in my arms.  She suffered from blood clots and ultimately did bleed out.”

 This was the kind of evidence I pray to receive during a reading.   I could feel Irene’s joy.  It was several days after our session that I discovered that one set of details stood out among the many Carly got through.  

 “I just got a picture of the Bible,” I had reported, “but then it turned into another book that’s signed inside the cover.  Is there a Bible?” I asked even as I heard Irene gasp.

Her answer carried a mixture of laughter and sniffles.  “No.  I’m sitting with it now.  ‘My bible,’ I call it.  It’s George Anderson’s ‘Walking in the Garden of Souls,’ and he signed it for me.”

“Most people sign on the right, but this is on the left side.” I said.

“Yes, on the left side he wrote a message about Carly, and on the right side is a prayer in Latin.”

As an author, I have signed thousands of autographs, and I have quite a few autographed books from other authors in my personal library.  The signature is always on the right-hand page.  That Carly would be so specific—and so accurate—about this “bible” being signed on the left side just inside the cover delighted me.  This tiny detail gave her mother all the evidence she needed to confirm her daughter’s presence. 

“I set my intention that if Carly could come through, you would mention that book,” Irene stated in a follow-up email.  “I call it ‘my bible’ and carry it with me always.  George signed the book for me.  He signed the inside left cover as well as the inside right.  I knew then without any doubt that Carly was present." 

“Sleep comes to me now,” Irene wrote after describing the nagging insomnia that had plagued her since Carly’s death.  “I was right there in the room with her.  You connected us with a purity that words cannot describe.  I felt for the first time since she passed how I felt whenever Carly and I were together.”

In my work as a medium, I have come to know beyond a doubt that what love has joined together, the death of the physical body cannot separate.  This truth was evidenced in the beautiful spirit I felt with me during that reading.

“There’s a purity about her that’s unusual … an acceptance of others … an all-inclusiveness.  There’s a feeling of my arms going out and just embracing the world.  She loved kids.  She loved people.  She loved you.  There’s a feeling that at times she couldn’t hold it all in.”

“Everybody called her a love bug,” Irene confirmed.

 “There’s this desire to sing because she had this joy inside her that just wanted to come out, but she really couldn’t sing.” 

“Not at all,” Irene laughed through her tears, “We would joke about it all the time.”

And now she says, ‘Everybody would call this—her death—a tragedy, but don’t see it that way.  I left my mark.  You’re carrying it on.”

Indeed, as I delved deeper into the Carly’s Kids website, I learned that with the efforts of Carly’s family, her boyfriend Mike, and the generous donations of many loving souls, the foundation has accomplished much in the short time since Carly passed.  Ongoing support to the foundation will continue to keep Carly’s memory alive, but thanks to a five-bar phone call from Heaven, Carly’s irrepressible spirit is more than just a memory.  

I know from reuniting thousands of souls that this life is not all there is.  Our loved ones who pass are still very much with us, and we will see them again when we, too, pass through the veil.  Until then, they will go to great effort, as Carly did so well, to show us that love does indeed last forever.

What's Yours?

Here's a new and fun way of looking at ourselves, courtesy of Sanaya (my team of guides):

In my "Let Your Spirit S.O.A.R." course I teach that each of us has our own unique vibration or frequency.  This energetic signature is an average of all of the thoughts we've had and the actions we've taken throughout our lives.   The more loving the thoughts and actions, the more refined the frequency.  A sensitive person can actually feel another person's "frequency."  This is why you resonate or "click" with some people and feel dissonance with others, because you are consciously or subconsciously comparing your frequency with theirs.

So there I was teaching my S.O.A.R. workshop last weekend.  I was explaining that each of us has a unique signal.  When people are able to sense other's thoughts without them being present, we call that telepathy.  It's a matter of tuning in to the waves of information-carrying energy that fill the seemingly empty space around us.  Our environment is filled with unseen energy, including cell phone signals, TV and radio signals, and others' thoughts.  Normally, we need a special instrument to perceive these signals, be that a cell phone, a television set, a radio, or a brain.  All of these--the brain included--are instruments that are perfectly designed to receive and/or transmit specific signals. 

I explained that cell phones are designed to pick out signals encoded only to one particular phone number.  That's when Sanaya gave my lip the familiar twitch that lets me know I'm being helped, and whispered in my ear: "And like your phones, each of you has your own unique ringtone as well."

Wow.  I love that analogy!

That got me thinking about how we would sound to each other if we could actually hear each other's ringtone.  I remembered a movie once where one of the characters had programmed their phone to make an awful shriek whenever their mother called.  What a way to be recognized!  Happily, other people cannot program our ringtones for us.  Once we reach adulthood, we are solely responsible for our personal ringtone (and I'm not talking about your phone now).  So the question is:  How would your ringtone sound to someone sensitive enough to hear your tune?  Would it be an ear-splitting shriek or a line from a love song?

The good news is, if you don't like the tune you're playing now, just as with your phone, you can change it.  It all comes down to the choices you make from one moment to the next.  This post is going to appear on my Facebook and Twitter page.  I'd love to hear from you:  What's Your ringtone? 

The Room of Choice and Opportunity

Friend Clint Stull shared with me a vision he experienced while on a recent walk.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did:

"I AM seated against a wall in the center of a long room with a door at each end. In front of me is a window with a view of the world. The sun is shining and I can see the graceful movement of the trees swaying within a subtle sweet breeze. There is an inviting and comfortable looking couch in front of the window. Suddenly the sun becomes obscured and foreboding clouds begin to move in. I hear an aggressive knock at one of the doors, it’s fear wanting to enter and you can hear worry mumbling behind him in an infinite hallway.

"Fear becomes more insistent and the knocking becomes more aggressive. There is an urge to jump up from my seat and place myself against the door to keep fear out, but instead I decide to say, “OK, come in”. He enters darkly with worry and anxiety trailing behind, and looks to the comfortable couch in front of the window where the foreboding sky fills the window frame. I say, “You may pass through, but you are not invited to stay”. He’s very annoyed by this and is insistent. He and his family members would like to settle in for an extended visit. I choose to not engage him and point to the other door where he is to exit. He looks at me directly to test my resolve and reluctantly saunters toward the door and departs with his family members.

"Through the window I can see the clouds are dispersing and the sun is beginning to break through. There is another knock, a sweet sound at the door. It’s Gratefulness, and I say “Come in please! Make yourself at home." She takes a seat in front of the window in all her radiance. Now there is another knock at the door.  This time it's Happiness. I invite him in. Gratefulness knowingly smiles, and I say to Happiness, “I know you can’t stay, but I do appreciate your visit.” After filling the room with good feeling and expanding in the presence of Gratefulness, he passes through and exits. Gratefulness rises and decides to take a seat next to me and remain.  
                   
"These visits, in all forms, are ever constant. They come and go for a lifetime. But because Gratefulness has remained seated beside me, all that come and pass through I treat as honored guests. All that arrive come with something to give. Fear and worry now depart quickly.  Love now enters without knocking and goes directly to the window seat."   

Sammy Sends His Love

I want to share a beautiful confirmation I received that those in spirit are truly with us and that mediums are not simply “reading the mind of the client.”

During a reading last November I heard the name “Sammy” (I’ve been given permission to share this story anonymously, so I’ve changed his name). My client said, “That’s my good friend’s husband’s name, but he passed.” Sammy then proceeded to share with me a message that he wanted my client to pass along to his wife.

I had forgotten about that brief visit until I received a most welcome letter this week from Sammy’s wife. It seems that my client had, indeed, delivered her husband’s message. The wife wrote “You said that there was this ‘spirit’ named Sammy who knew my friend, and he wanted to let me know that he was okay. He mentioned something about ‘pain in the stomach, cancer, colon cancer, and surgery,’ among other details. On the same day of the reading, I had an appointment with a proctologist. A week later I discovered I had a malignant tumor in the colon. I had surgery on November 28. They took out the tumor, and thank God I won’t have to have chemotherapy or radiation. What stunned me the most was that Sammy, my deceased husband, knew about my cancer before I knew, and he looked for an opportunity to let me know and tell me how he was doing.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about all this,” she continued. “I’m a skeptical person, but, now I must say that I WAS a skeptical person. I started reading Messages of Hope, and it made me cry, but it was a joyful cry. I had always thought of spirits in a negative way, as in evil spirits, but I never thought about spirits full of love. I must thank you, because indirectly I know now that my husband is okay. He is with me, and will be all the time.”

I am so grateful this woman took the time to share this magical story with me and that she has allowed me to share it with you. What is it I advise people all the time? “Talk to them. They hear you.”

Never Alone

Many people have no trouble believing in angels.  For this retired Navy Commander, it took a lot of convincing, but those angels I used to not believe in know how to get through to us.  I have shared in my workshops some of the irrefutable evidence that angels at the highest level have given me . 

The first time I felt the presence of Archangel Michael in meditation, I thought, "There is no way I am going to share this with anyone!"  During that unexpected encounter he told me several things that at the time made no sense.  He spoke of Hebrews, and antennas, and coherence, and a gift.  I wrote down the words as I heard them.  The photo at the left is of the actual notes I took during that memorable visit.  Hours later, my husband and I had an encounter on a trail that changed my view of angels forever.  We "happened" upon a man and woman from Israel speaking what?  Hebrew.  After chatting for a few moments I learned that the husband was an engineer.  His specialty?  Antennas.  His wife was a scientist.  She didn't believe in mediums, but was at a loss to explain our chance encounter on that trail, especially when we chatted some more and I discovered her name was "Michal" and that the work of both she and her husband focused on coherence.  I realized then that this chance encounter, on a trail we happened upon after missing a turn-off, was the "gift" of which Archangel Michael had spoken.  From that moment I knew that angels are real and that we can communicate with them.

On Sunday, March 1st, I gathered with a couple hundred friends to share my guides' messages with them while in an expanded state of consciousness.  In these sessions I go into a meditative state, surrender my focus on the human side of myself, and invite Sanaya to speak through me.  Sanaya has told us they "she/they" are a collective consciousness of my guides and others in spirit.  The group learned Sunday night that Archangel Michael is part of this collective consciousness. 

I was quite surprised that he came through publicly.  Why?  Because all of this is still a bit outside of my comfort zone as a former left-brained, military type.  The emails I received after the session from those who were present with that energy took away my discomfort.  Several, including those who had never before seen an aura, reported seeing a large angel-shaped wing behind me as Michael spoke through me.  They felt the room grow warm, then cool.  The message he shared was profound and quite timely.

I found one email especially affirming and received permission to share it with you:

"Suzanne, Sunday's Sanaya session was wonderful!  During the channeling,  I received a message from Spirit and considered writing to you about my experience.  Since I knew you would be getting a lot of angel stories this week, I asked Spirit for confirmation.  I documented my experience yesterday.  Attached is a link to the newspaper I review every day.  This story was being featured this morning:

Minnesota college tragedies: Drunk, frozen and underage  

The headline was the confirmation, and then, the first paragraph even mentions "in an alley" - I had to stop reading, I couldn't go on...    (Why?)  Here is the documentation about my experience on Sunday evening:  

The message came during the channeling when Archangel Michael (Sanaya) mentions that we are always protected and never alone.  I was sitting with eyes closed, listening with a quiet mind.  Suddenly, the image of a dark neighborhood alley on a very cold winter night flashed before me – I knew immediately that this meant I was watched over that night, that angels do protect us (the incident happened during my freshman year in college (’67-’68) when I had way too much to drink, was walking home alone down an icy alley late at night, wearing insufficient clothing for the weather, very tired, my thinking impaired, trying to focus, and all I wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep – had I stopped or fallen, I would have frozen to death)  The memory of that night "hit" me as if it were yesterday...   

(The writer continues...) For years I have thought how very, very lucky I was that night.  Only now do I realize the significance of that event and what was really going on.  Thank you Spirit.  Thank you Sanaya.  Thank you Suzanne.    "

... and I say, "Thank you, Archangel Michael, and the rest of the group we call Sanaya for believing in US.  Your message to us Sunday night is oh so important."

I encourage you, my friends reading this post, to read the transcript from the March 1st session that is posted on my website and to listen along to the recording as you do so.  It is an energetic experience that will speak directly to your soul.  Here's the link to the page where you will find both: http://www.suzannegiesemann.com/sanayasessions/

Many blessings as we follow this beautiful journey together.