All Posts

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

After my husband passed 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, established med

Losing my best friend — my husband and soulmate — is something that still feels unreal, even after a year and four months. When I sit by the veterans’ memorial, watching cars pass and noticing the long road I’ll walk back to my apartment, I’m reminded of my life now. A long path, uncertain at times, with rooms that feel emptier than they once did. That’s what it feels like to lose the vision of a future with a spiritual partner. There is a grounding that comes from being in a

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

Life after loss is a sacred path. It awakens us to the impermanence of life and to the depth of our own humanity. Some hearts soften and grow in compassion; others ache, rage, or close for a time. All of it is part of love finding its way through pain. Healing after loss isn’t about moving on ; it’s about learning to walk forward—sometimes slowly, sometimes unsteadily, while allowing love to walk beside you. Over time, that love becomes the quiet strength that helps you take

May these reminders help you find steadiness and peace as you walk with loss. After losing someone we love, it can be hard to move forward when they seem to exist only in the past—not in our present or future. We can no longer make that phone call, send that text, or share holidays together. Yet through conscious living and mindfulness, we can learn to embrace life even as we carry the pain of loss. Our loved ones would want that for us. In honoring life, we honor love itsel

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

Today unfolded in a way I didn’t plan, but perhaps my heart needed it. I found myself at the park where my late husband Phil and I used to have our weekly spiritual chats. It’s been a year and a half since I’ve gone there. I took photos of the familiar spots where we’d stop and talk, hand in hand. Tears came, of course, but I’m glad I went. It felt like honoring both love and growth. I noticed again how sadness can shape the way we see life — how isolating it feels when we st

Not every response will feel kind—and you never have to accept what doesn’t support your healing. You have the right to protect your peace and honor what feels true for you. The Mourner’s Bill of Rights  reminds us that grief is deeply personal and uniquely our own.

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

Amid the sadness of grief, love is still alive. I wake each morning and remember that my husband’s soul is with me. I carry that love throughout my day, in every breath, in every step. And when night comes, I rest in that same love. Grief and love walk together. The ache of loss reminds us how deeply we have loved—and how deeply we are still loved in return. Sadness does not erase love. Instead, it reveals its depth. And in that depth, we can find comfort, strength, and the q

One of the most meaningful ways to connect with a loved one beyond the veil is to give yourself space for quiet. When you sit in stillness, even just for a few minutes, you open a doorway for love to reach you. Find a comfortable place to sit. Close your eyes, breathe slowly, and allow yourself to settle into a meditative state. In that calm space, you can invite your loved one to draw near. You may simply say in your heart: “If you can, please send me a message or a sign.” S

I’ve learned there is no “normal” way to grieve. 💔 The waves come in their own time, and each heart walks its own path. While models like the five stages of grief describe common patterns, there is no single way through loss. What comforts one may not comfort another and that’s okay. Our ways of grieving are as unique as our love.

On January 9, 2025, I began a gentle practice of daily meditation, setting aside just a few quiet minutes to open space for communication with Phil. In those moments, I asked him for tangible evidence of his presence—something that would deepen the connection I already felt in my heart. That same morning, Phil came to me in a dream. Though his face was hazy, I knew without question it was him. We chatted easily, just as we always had. Then he smiled, stood, and leaned in to g

In times of loss, the words of poets often give voice to what our hearts cannot. Maya Angelou’s When Great Trees Fall  is one such poem. It speaks to the immensity of loss and the quiet strength that blooms in its aftermath. We share this excerpt as a reminder that while grief reshapes us, love and memory continue to whisper us forward. Excerpt from When Great Trees Fall Maya Angelou Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can