The Medium, Part Two

by Lori Dwyer on November 15, 2011 · 28 comments

I’ve been asked a few times since yesterday… was there anything the medium knew, that wasn’t on your blog…?

A few bits and pieces, that meant more to me than most people who read this would realise… the older woman who gave him a kick up the bum, the message he passed on (cheeky) about getting to heaven… and those fingers through my hair.

I don’t think I’ve ever written about it, correct if I’m wrong, please… That maddening feeling, right from the start… worse, or better, whichever way you look at it, on the nights I sobbed myself to sleep. Tony’s fingers, running through my hair, the way I’d felt a hundred times before. And the positivity that this was it, that tomorrow, or sometime during the night, I’d wake up with my mind completely missing in action, cracked under the pressure… praying that I wasn’t going insane, half laughing that I was finally losing my mind.


It takes me days to recover from seeing the medium.

I cry for 24 hours. Sometimes I sob noisily, but mostly it’s just fat salty tears that travel down my cheeks and plop onto things, puddles of salt on my keyboard, the plates for dinner, mixing in soundlessly with my children’s bathwater.

I try not to cry in front of my children. It breaks my heart that my son is so used to me crying he barely bats an eyelid- a concerned hug and he’s on his way. After watching me cry for hours, despite my best attempts to hide it, he turns to me and say “Mum, are you still crying? You can’t be sad all the time!”

Which makes me cry all the harder.

I’m not sure what I’m crying for. Shock, at first. Then pain, because that was so exactly what I needed to hear, and came so quickly and forcefully, it was as if he were waiting for me, just waiting for the chance to make himself heard.

He plays with your hair at night… I can’t describe the shock, the comfort…. I am not, it seems, as psychotic as I feared. When I feel his presence there, warm and strong and comforting, standing behind me, holding me up… maybe that’s not as much of my imagination as I thought.

 At the same time, I am pissed. How dare he. Stupidly, the knowledge that he is having the tattoo on his back finished makes me angry… nice for him, of course, to be able to go and get a tattoo whenever he pleases, without the military operation of finding a babysitter for two small children. Nice for him, too, to be happy and at peace, when that’s the furthest island from me right now, and I either float aimlessly or splash frenetically toward it, all the time going nowhere.

But deeper than the angry, deeper than the unjustness, is the simple, desolate pain of grief. Sorrow. Somehow, the knowledge that he isn’t angry at me, that he loves me, that he’s sorry… it makes things worse. I have permission now to miss him as much as I choose, as much as any widow would miss her husband.

The grief is all consuming, and I spend almost two days wanting nothing more than to die, to leave, to stop this pain and be with Tony again.

Because if he’s there, he’s still around… what am I doing here?

And then, of course, I’m pissed at him again. Because by dieing, he went and left me without that option.

It passes, of course, as it always does. I contemplate running away from my children, starting a new life where I can pretend I haven’t lived my old one, pleasing my self destructive as it wishes. And I do none of those things.

I emerge from that dark cloud around the day I turn thirty. And I feel… better. There are so many tiny things cleared up now.

He’s sorry, and he loved me, all the while, as much I as loved him. He’s OK with me moving on. He’s happy, and I’m not… but I can be, if I happen find to come across it, and he won’t hold it against me.

And my children are just mine, Any lingering grief about having to raise them as Tony would have wished is gone… he’ll always be their dad, and they’ll always know all about him. But with that one sentence- he doesn’t feel he has the right to call himself Dad anymore– he removed all that guilt and worry. I know that might make people In Real Life angry, but I took it in the spirit I’m sure it came… he left them so young, his influence will be so diluted… he’ll never be a real, flesh and blood person to them, and while that breaks my heart, I know it’s true.

It’s a relief, and a balm for my pain, and brings me closure. I feel loved again, I feel  a right to grieve for my husband. Questions are answered, and this experience tells me what I’ve wanted to hear, what I’ve needed to hear for months now.

That he loved me, desperately, as much as I loved him.

That this wasn’t my fault.

Skeptics, shush now, if you can help yourselves. I believe that this was real, that this was truth.

And considering what it’s given me, if it wasn’t…. does it matter?

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{ 28 comments… read them below or add one }

invivamus March 11, 2012 at 9:34 pm

The thought of seeing a medium scares me. When my father passed, my mother saw a medium. She was also a prior sceptic.
It's ironic, but in my post hippy days I think my parents may have listened to my ramblings. Yet now I can't face the probability of knowing about that thick, opaque glass wall that separates us. I can't think about that possibility.


Just Jennifer January 2, 2012 at 11:34 am

I am SO HAPPY you got to do this, to hear from Tony and get this closure. And I totally understand everything you're saying here. What a gift!


Livi December 13, 2011 at 5:49 am

I'm so glad it's helped you and given you some closure. That's so important.


Tenille November 20, 2011 at 4:43 pm

No, it doesn't matter. Much love to you Lori xo


Marlene November 18, 2011 at 1:27 pm

I balled reading these medium posts…I totally believe in mediums (well, the real ones, lol). I must admit my first thought when I read about Tony getting his tattoo finished and enjoying heaven so much was also a sarcastic "well, how nice for you".
Love you Lori, you are the awesomest person ever!(yes, I know that's not a real word, lol).


Bambi Kay November 16, 2011 at 11:13 pm

Leaving love and hugs to you and your little ones, girl!


edenland November 16, 2011 at 12:02 pm

I fucking love you, Lori.



Anonymous November 15, 2011 at 11:22 pm

It doesn't matter what anybody else says, if you believe it was real then it was.
When you meet your soul mate in life (and I believe we have more than one of these), then that connection is never lost.
My husband still plays with my feet in bed 10 years after he left me, and I lost him when I was 28.


Melissa November 15, 2011 at 10:37 pm

Wow, again. I'm so glad you had this experience. And I agree with a previous comment – it really doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, the message was for you, and you alone. So you take what you've been given and run like hell baby. Moving forward with a bit of peace and closure – I could not have asked for more for you. Yay for psychics :)


Glowless @ Where’s My Glow November 15, 2011 at 10:35 pm

Such a sense of peace, love and healing in your words today. It's gorgeous xxx


marketingtomilk November 15, 2011 at 10:06 pm

It is just what you need it to be.



Canadian in Glasgow November 15, 2011 at 9:46 pm

I don't know if I could handle that. I WANT to know…but I also don't want to know.

I'm scared to death of what they might say. Confirm my worst fears? Terrifying.

You are brave, and wonderful. And I am so glad that you have answers.


Annie November 15, 2011 at 8:46 pm

I'm so happy you got some answers and you can take them and move forward with less guilt. It must have been a shock to you… but a good result I think.

Annie x


deardarl November 15, 2011 at 3:00 pm

*biggest sceptic of them all*


Amy xxoo November 15, 2011 at 2:59 pm

I've posted on my blog before about sessions i've had with a pyschic, and a few very specific things she said would happen that came true, so i'm a believer. Sure some of the so-called gifted out there are complete shysters, but if you can find even a little solace in a "special " message, than who is anyone to try and diminish that for you with their skepticism?


deardarl November 15, 2011 at 2:58 pm

Lori – I was the biggest sceptic of the mall. I mean I have a PhD in science ffs.
Until my husband died that was….
Now I *know* he is here and while it is frustrating (yes darling – I'm so glad you see and hear every move we make but unless you find a better way to communicate with ME, that's not that much help), I love that I *know*.
I am not crazy.
I can feel him touch my face and I know I felt him touch my arm a few weeks ago.
But while it is nice to know, it still doesn't bring him back … and that part really sucks.
huge hugs.


Oldie November 15, 2011 at 11:42 am

Lots of people won't understand.. many who know you will.. and they arte the ones who matter. The naysayers are not worthy of your attention.

You know the next steps, you will know when to let go of what you have been holding onto.. at first it will be uncormfortable and a little scarey.. but you are strong and will move through that step when you get to it.

Good friends will help again when it gets tough to let go.

Love for you and your's,



Kel November 15, 2011 at 11:33 am

It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks – the message was for you, and you alone. Tony gave you what you needed to keep going, just as he did in life.
It's an awesome gift :)


Lisa @lybliss November 15, 2011 at 11:33 am

Lori, I have only just found your blog today.. have bawled and laughed and shaken with disbelief at your past year. I don't think any one has the right to try and siprove your beliefs. Tony was there, you heard from him. I can't imagine how beautiful and wonderful and exquisitely frustrating that must have been.
Love to you and your little ones xxx


Mum on the Run November 15, 2011 at 10:33 am

This is just perfect – in the most imperfect way.
Your pain and sorrow are no less – but hopefully, your self image is on the up.
The one whose opinion mattered the most has let you know that you are free to love yourself again.


MummyK November 15, 2011 at 10:19 am

I'm one of those people who believes in mediums and supernatural so I totally get this.


Sapphyre November 15, 2011 at 9:50 am

Thanks and I'm sorry if I made you doubt even for a minute. I'm no longer a skeptic of this psychic! You didn't mention those things in the blog, I went looking.

I am so happy that Tony found a way to communicate his love and tenderness to you. And that you have validation you are not going mad. Although, apparently people that are, rarely question their sanity. My hubby had a psychotic episode (only once thankfully), and he had no idea he was nutty. {Hugs}

Now I have to go away and unpack what this means for myself. If there are real psychics, then reality is way more interesting and amazing than I ever dared to believe. Wow!


Miss Pink November 15, 2011 at 9:43 am

How would she have known the things she did if she didn't have some connection? Things that your body language, it wouldn't have given away, they were far too random and specific, not broad.
I am glad you saw her.
You needed to hear, from the one person that could make you listen, this wasn't your fault.


Steph(anie) November 15, 2011 at 9:33 am

I am so very glad for the relief that his messages brought you.


Pandora November 15, 2011 at 9:30 am

And considering what it's given me, if it wasn't…. does it matter?

To me, Lori, this hits the nail on the head. What is most important here is that you believe, and that you have (ultimately, at least) been comforted.

I think that's pretty priceless.

Sending lots of virtual hugs to you, for what they're worth.

Take care

Pandora x


Me November 15, 2011 at 8:45 am

I read you rpost yesterday and today and all I can say is that I am so happy for you that you got answers to questions that you had. It is so good to hear that our loved ones do see what is happening after they are no longer here and I am really happy to hear that you feel like you can move on. I can only try to imagine what you have been through.

Have as good a day as you can.


Toni November 15, 2011 at 12:03 pm

Let the healing commence!

Lori, this was exactly what you needed to hear, so you can put down all the guilt and get on with the grief.
Life will get better.



Shelley November 15, 2011 at 10:50 am

Im glad you were able to get some answers. It must have been incredibly hard to hear but at the same time a huge relief. I believe, i always have. Huge hugs Lori Xx. I do hope it has brought you some peace.


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