Ashes to Ashes: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Spirit Communication
Some truths announce themselves in whispers, in flickering shadows at the edge of perception. Mine arrived in a way I could never have expected—with a witness I never would have chosen. One thing my ex-husband and I can now agree on, is that the dead don’t always stay quiet.
At eighteen, I secretly eloped with my high school sweetheart; and that’s not even the unbelievable part of this story.
Understandably, my new mother-in-law, whom we’ll call Selene, was not thrilled. Her only child had married without her knowledge, and to say she wasn’t my biggest fan would be an understatement. Selene was a complex woman—overbearing, intrusive, prone to extreme mood swings, and even attempted to have our marriage annulled. Yet, she also loved her grandchildren fiercely, was a phenomenal cook, and had a beautiful singing voice.
This story requires a bit of setup, so bear with me—I promise it’s worth it.
As a teenager, Selene was groomed by an older man, whom we’ll call Rick. At sixteen, she married him, and soon after, my ex-husband was born. Unsurprisingly, Rick was controlling and abusive. By the time my ex was two, Selene had fled with him for their safety. She spent the rest of her life putting as much distance as possible between Rick and the two of them. If another plane of existence had been an option, I’m sure she would have taken it. Over the years, she remarried three more times, finally finding a good match in a man we’ll call Winston.
Fast forward—my own marriage crumbled, and I entered my thirties as a single mother. While my soon-to-be ex and I were in the state-mandated separation period preceding a divorce, Selene passed away unexpectedly. Her final wishes were to be cremated, with her ashes split between Winston and my ex-husband. Winston later remarried and moved on, and we lost touch. That should have been the end of it.
It wasn’t.
Nine years later, I received an unexpected message on social media. It was Winston. His new wife wanted the ex-wife’s remains out of their house, and my ex-husband had never claimed his portion of Selene’s ashes. Since my ex had deleted his accounts, Winston reached out to the only person he could find—me.
The familiar sting of cleaning up my ex’s messes returned. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved, so, I turned to my Lenormand deck. I don’t recall every card I pulled, but one stood out: The Bear—a card associated with mothers and overbearing personalities. Selene fit that description perfectly. I shuffled and pulled again. The Bear. Again. The Bear. And again. The Bear.
For context, the odds of drawing the same card four times in a row in a 36-card deck while drawing five cards at a time are 1 in 2,700—or 0.037%. That’s when I knew: Selene had a message for me.
I picked up my phone and texted my ex-husband. He responded with some chilling news—his biological father, Rick, had just entered hospice.
Suddenly, it all made sense. Of all days, Selene reached out now. Rick was about to cross over, and she was not about to share the afterlife with her abuser. Two days later, my ex finally retrieved her ashes. That same day, Rick passed away.
I haven’t heard from Selene since her wishes were finally carried out. I like to think she’s finally at peace. I believe she came to me because my cards could serve as her voice—like a non-verbal child using a communication board. This is not a traditional use of Lenormand, but after significant study, it’s a language I understand.
Since then, I’ve had spirits come through occasionally during readings—some clearer than others. It doesn’t happen every time, and I don’t offer it as a standalone service, as I’m still honing this ability. But if a spirit comes through in a reading, I will deliver the message.
Curious? So am I. If you’re open to the unknown and understand that there are no guarantees, I’d be happy to explore the possibilities with you.
⭒☾⭒
