Marilyn wanted to hear from her daughter, Genevieve – "Jenny" to her friends. Jenny had passed into spirit about five years ago, leaving three small children and a very distraught husband. Marilyn showed me a picture of Jenny. I like when clients have pictures during Skype sessions; photographs capture the energy of the individual and help me to better link in with the person’s spirit. Jenny’s thick, golden hair perfectly framed her oval face, and accented her soft, brown eyes. Her playful smile made me want to smile. Everything about her said "gentle."

I closed my eyes and centred myself to get ready to receive spirit. I mentally sent a prayer for help to my guides, and for a few moments, I felt the bliss of touching in with the spirit world—

Like a sudden jerk to my solar plexus, I sat forward. My eyes popped open and a tingle in my spine told me something wasn’t right.

Slowly, trying to find the best words, I said, "I understand … her children miss her … but surely, in the five years since her passing … they might have been able to work with … work through their grief …"

Tears spilled from Marilyn’s eyes. She looked downward and spoke in a hushed voice: "My daughter died two weeks ago. Not five years."

I sat silently while gathering my wits. I’ve had clients who’ve tried to trick me by purposely giving me misleading information – God only knows why – but I didn’t feel Marilyn was playing me. Her grief was too real, too strong – it rolled off her in waves.

She took a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed her eyes. "I’m sorry for lying," she said. "When we talked on the phone last week to set up the session, you said a person should wait a few months before coming to see you. So I told you five years. I just … I needed to hear from Jenny so badly … I miss her so much … Some days, it’s so hard for me to even get out of bed …"

I opened my desk drawer to get one of the telephone numbers I keep handy: the contact information for a grief counselor that I knew and trusted. I gave Marilyn the number, and urged her to call.

"At this point in time," I told her, "I don’t think I’m the right person to help you. Visiting a medium does not circumvent the grieving process. I know Jenny’s passing has created a lot of painful feelings, but you need to live through them. I’ve known some people whose sorrow turned to anger because they didn’t give themselves the chance to mourn, and then heal from that grief. I’m not saying this is you, but I do feel talking about your feelings to someone who’s better trained to deal with these emotions than I am may be more helpful to you."

Marilyn tried to smile. She copied the phone number on a slip of paper, and then she sighed, folded the paper in half, and placed it to the side.

"And later, if you still feel like it," I said, "come back in about six months."

After Marilyn disconnected from our Skype session, I said a quick prayer that she’d give the number a call. As I thanked my guides for helping me deliver the right message, I heard a gentle female voice say, "Thank you."