My friend, Taylor, is dying of cancer and her last few days of life are at hand. She wrote to me while I was in Italy to ask for a reading, three days into my trip. There were two more weeks before my return home; could she wait until I returned to connect? Her answer, “Yes.”

What do you say to someone who has days to live? What kind of reading is that? It’s not advising them on a new job or relationship or a move to a new home. Or is it? Looking over her chart, what direction could help her in her transition—the Mother of all moves.

Generally, my work is with those who have lost someone or to empower clients to reach within and connect with their inner wisdom. At the end of life are the questions different? What questions might spark self-reflection or empower her? Where do I begin? Asking a client what their focus is helps guide the reading and enhances our time together. I’m a coach, a guide, a facilitator with abilities as a medium. Readings are a partnership.

Self-aware and introspective and asking for guidance in her transition, I anticipated a heartfelt authentic dialogue with Taylor. I pushed record on the iPad before dialing. Taylor answered.

“How are you?” I cringed at my first words. How IS someone who had days to live? However, with grace, her slow, measured answer whispered, “I’m not in any pain. I’m tired and sleep a lot.”

“Any specific questions or focus as we begin?” I asked, gathering myself.

“No, I’m interested in what you see for me.” Taylor, asked for guidance to tap into her subconscious to navigate her next move, the same questions as others just a different destination.

“Well, I was jolted from sleep at 2:30 this morning. You were in my mind’s eye. Bursts of white light emanated from your body. It was beautiful, like fireworks. In those quiet early morning hours, I wondered if perhaps you were transitioning.  A crowd of angels, former friends, archangels and others seemed to be waiting. Bits of your energy, glittering like fairy dust, spread out to those around you, those you loved, those you had touched—little bits of love or wisdom or energy infused their beings. It felt as if the time for transition was near. Later, when I opened my emails, there was a post from Abraham. Can I read it to you?”


“ ‘Everything is happening in the moment. So as you are offering a vibration in your now, you are receiving the result of that vibration. When you make your transition into the Non-physical, you re-emerge into Pure Positive Energy, and you leave all resistance behind. Everyone who makes their transition reaps the glory of Pure Positive Energy.’  I felt that the universe knew I would be talking to you and wanted me to pass on this message. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

In her weakened condition, our conversation was sparse. Her comments brief, often just an “um hum”. This precious conversation progressed in a measured cadence. The long pauses reflective for both of us with a heightened sense of presence and awareness. The conversation was a river of thought and we, like leaves, floated with the current.

Taylor had been a close friend of Joy, my mother-in-law, who died in 2007. She asked, “Is Joy here?” Joy has continued to be with me since her death. Many clients I know personally, asked for her input. “Yes,” I smiled, “She’s always here. Her unconditional love wraps you like angel wings. You are divinely protected and guided.”

“Taylor, may I ask you some questions to reflect upon?”

“Uh huh.”

“These are not questions for you to answer to me, just food for thought: Have you acknowledged yourself for your accomplishments and given yourself credit for your talents? Do you see the value you have given in service to others? Have you forgiven yourself for any action real or perceived that you’ve held on to? Is there any relationship that you have yet to resolve?” I paused after each question and proceeded slowly.

Death elicits a variety of responses from people, mostly fear—fear of the unknown, fear of losing yourself or your friends. You stand at a precipice and know you have no alternative but to jump. Where will you land? Will someone catch you? Terrifying thoughts for many. Generally, in our society, death is not a welcomed topic, not something to embrace. Yet, it can be. The conversations around our impermanence creates intimacy and eases our fear of change. Our illusion of being in control is just that, an illusion.

Taylor’s reading offered insights into her life. I found myself reflecting on the very questions I posed to her: Am I in gratitude for all that life has given me? Is time spent each day in quiet reflection? Have I let go of old stories and beliefs that no longer serve me or acknowledged myself for my achievements? If we don’t honor ourselves, why should anyone else, and why wait to the end of our lives to do so? Do I tell my family and friends that I love and appreciate them? Are there relationship issues that need to be resolved, and have I faced them head-on with love and kindness?

Each poignant comment bounced back like a boomerang and hit me squarely between the eyes. What a gift to be talking about these issues now.

Just when we’re asked to do something for others, we find that the gift is ours. Taylor asked for a reading, to be present with her, to share what was in my heart, honestly. The present—that’s all: listening, speaking when something occurred to us, long pauses with no need to fill the time, no need to be in control of the conversation, just present to our time together—the last in this lifetime.