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My soulmate and husband, Phil Beaumont, passed on July 29, 2024 . When I arrived at the hospice facility with my neighbor Bob, I was held in a state that was both calm and tearful. I don’t attribute that calmness to my own resilience (though I can be resilient), but rather to powers beyond my understanding and to the kindness extended to me by my neighbors—also friends—Bob and his wife Lori, who so generously welcomed me into their family, along with many locals who embrace

For those of you who have lost a romantic partner, this video is very touching. It was created by William Murray, co-founder of the Facebook group Love After Life, who wrote the lyrics and created the visuals, in collaboration with group member Michelle James, who provided the beautiful music, vocals, and arrangement. Love After Life is not a traditional grief group. It is a community for men and women who do not wish to repartner and choose to remain committed to their soulm

Grief is like a wave in the ocean. Sometimes it rises unexpectedly, leaving us wondering if we will experience this pain for the rest of our lives. There is no single answer to that question because every person's journey is different. Some people eventually go on to live happy, fulfilling lives while maintaining an ongoing connection with the soul of their loved one. For those of us experiencing a more recent loss, however, it takes time for the brain and heart to adjust to

A few days ago, I renewed my lease. On the surface, it was a simple decision. But as I signed the paperwork, I realized it represented something much deeper. I am happy here. After my husband Phil's transition, there was a period when everything felt uncertain. Like many people navigating grief, I was learning how to build a life that looked different from the one I had imagined. Not a replacement life, but a new chapter. Over time, this apartment has become more than a place

Grief often tells us that separation is final. We look for our loved one where they used to be and feel the ache of their physical absence. Yet love has a way of reminding us that some connections are not limited by time, distance, or form. As we move through our days, many of us continue to sense the presence of those we cherish—in a memory that arrives at just the right moment, a familiar song, a dream, or a feeling of comfort that seems to come from nowhere. Whether subtle

Tonight I shared a beautiful quote by Khalil Gibran and had a meme created for The Light After Grief inspired by its meaning: “Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.” As I reflected on those words, I realized how true they have become in my own journey since my husband Phil’s transition. Many believe separation diminishes love, yet I have found the opposite can also happen. Without the distractions of our humanity and ego, love can deepen because it becom

There is something deeply sacred about gratitude in grief. Not the kind that denies pain or tries to “rise above” sorrow, but the kind that cradles both love and loss within the same open heart. When my husband Phil first passed, I discovered that even in the depths of profound grief, moments of gratitude could gently ease the ache in my heart. I would think about how rare and extraordinary it was that we found each other at all—that in this lifetime we were given the chance

Our journey is made of moments that never truly leave us; they become a comforting light we carry forward, guiding our way. Loving memories are more than reflections of the past; they are a bridge of love between where we are and our loved ones across the veil. A familiar laugh, a shared song, a quiet moment in nature, or the feeling of their presence returning out of nowhere can remind us that love does not disappear with physical absence. The people we love continue to shap

Grief changes everything: how we see the world, how we move through each day, and how we relate to ourselves. It’s one of life’s hardest experiences, and it can leave us feeling tired, fragile, or unsure of how to keep going. That’s when compassion matters most. Being kind to yourself isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity. Grief doesn’t follow a straight line or a schedule. Some days you might feel strong, and others you might just want to rest. Both are okay. Allow yourself to b

There’s something steady within us, even in the darker moments… something that remembers the way back to light. Not something we have to search for or force. It’s already there, quietly present beneath it all. Grief, fear, and uncertainty can dim our awareness, but they don’t take the light away. It remains, soft and constant, waiting for a small opening… a breath, a pause, a moment of allowing. The light isn’t gone—it never was. Trust that gentle presence within you… it kn

After my husband Phil's transition 18 months ago, I began exploring afterlife videos and research, opening to what might still be possible. Along the way, I’ve had many experiences with him—clear, loving moments that show me he is still with me. I felt a need to connect with others who understand this truth: when our loved one leaves their body, it doesn’t mean they are gone from this earth or the universe. They are still here… alive, aware, and loving those they left behind

Even when we can no longer see or touch our loved ones, the love doesn’t fade, it continues. It lives in the quiet moments, in the warmth that rises in the heart, in the openness where we are able to communicate with the souls of our loved ones. Love is the bridge that keeps us connected to their soul. It moves beyond form, beyond distance, beyond what the eyes can see. And when we allow ourselves to feel it, we begin to notice… the connection was never lost, only transforme

I’ve come to understand that beyond familiar after-death signs such as butterflies, cardinals, feathers, or lights flickering on and off—our loved ones also communicate through thought. This is the same inner channel through which many mediums receive information. And yet, even with all I’ve experienced, I still found myself questioning from time to time. What has changed is my relationship with imagination. I no longer see it as something fragile or dismissible, but as a liv

This is the second video in a three-part series by Dr. Craig Hogan , president of the Afterlife Research and Education Institute and Seek Reality Online . What I find especially comforting is how he describes the afterlife, not as theory, but as something consistently reported through thousands of carefully documented accounts. Across these recordings, people who have crossed over describe their new existence as peaceful, familiar, and deeply welcoming. This next life—someti

It has been one year and seven months since my husband Phil made the transition across the veil. In that time, I’ve experienced many forms of connection—through butterflies and flowers, repeating phrases or memes on social media that echo a thought he had just sent when I was struggling, and through two dreams that feel more like visitations than imagination. Over time, I came to understand that this is how our loved ones most often communicate with us—not through dramatic si

It is encouraging to recognize that people from different cultures and all around the world report visitations and communication from their loved ones. When similar experiences arise across cultures and backgrounds, it suggests a shared human phenomenon rather than isolated imagination. For many, these accounts offer reassurance and support the understanding that our loved ones continue on, alive and well, beyond physical life. Below is an excerpt from research exploring aft

The shocking thing about death is not that it will come because, on some level, we all know it will—but that we live as though it is far away. The mind treats death as something that happens to others, not to us. Illogical, perhaps, yet this denial is how Western culture keeps death impersonal and distant. When death arrives, that illusion breaks. We enter grief, missing not only the physical presence of our loved one, but the future we imagined together, the shared path, and

After my husband transitioned in 2024, I began looking for evidence of life after death — through research, books, and my own intuitive guidance. —to understand where he went and what truly happens after we leave our physical bodies. I turned to articles, books, and the intuitive guidance that rises from deep within. Little by little, the picture that’s emerging has been both comforting and astonishing. The most trustworthy sources I’ve found come from researchers, establish

Grief can soften when we begin to see death not as an ending, but as a continuation — a passage into another dimension of being. This perspective helps us understand that love and consciousness never die. For those of us who have lost someone dear, recognizing the soul’s eternal nature brings deep comfort and meaning to our healing journey. I find peace in seeing death as part of the soul’s eternal journey—not as the end. In much of Western culture, we’re taught that our phys

Grief has the power to change us in ways we don’t expect. It can break us open, but in that breaking, we often discover strength, tenderness, and a new kind of wisdom. Grief is how we feel the pain of loss, and over time it can reshape that pain into compassion. It can turn longing into a sense of continued connection and remind us that love does not end when a life ends. In this way, grief becomes more than sorrow: it becomes a process of transformation that makes us more aw