When Phyllis told me she wanted to reach her children in spirit, I immediately felt a lump in my throat. There’s nothing more heartbreaking for a parent than losing a child. And, being a mother of two, I really feel that sorrow. But I have to put my feelings aside – I’m here to help, not share sadness with my clients. When faced with a distressing situation, I’ve learned it’s best to acknowledge my sitter’s grief and simply say, “I understand.”

I asked my guides for inner strength, then said a prayer for Phyllis’s children. As I opened my heart to welcome them, I was instantly overwhelmed. What a great assortment of energies! I felt dozens of spirit swirling around my feet. They all chatted at once, each seemingly in a different language, yet they all had the same message: “We love you, mom! Will you play with us?”

When a collection of spirits come in, it’s like visualizing a ball of multi-coloured elastics. So I asked my guides to let one of the group’s spirits step up and talk for the rest.

A hulking male energy rushed forward. He showed me an open field, and I felt the wind whipping through my hair as he ran. “He’s calling himself your child and your friend,” I said. “He loved horseback riding. I mean, really loved riding across the landscape. And he’s showing me a bright, red apple.”

“Oh, yes,” Plyllis said beaming. “He’d eat them right out of my hand! That’s Bruno, my favourite! I know we’re supposed to love all our kids equally, but Bruno was special.”

As the horse stood to the side, another spirit came close. This energy was the exact opposite of the first – he was gentle, small, and hovered at the horse’s feet. I sensed that though these two had a bond, they weren’t brothers.

“I’m not sure what I’m picking up, I said. “These children are your family, but they’re not directly related to you. Like they were adopted-“

“Yes!” Phyllis said. “Most of them found their way to me, and I just kept them.”

What was an odd thing to say. “I’m hearing a name like Chester. Chester wants to say hello. He’s showing me a couch with three soft pillows.”

Phyllis laughed. “I always found Chaz sleeping on the couch.” She chuckled, “What a lazy boy!”

By now I was totally confused. But I kept giving what I was getting, and left it to Phyllis to sort things out. As the session drew to a close, I felt exhausted – and totally perplexed. I took a deep breath to clear my head. I’d need a cup of green tea after this reading!

“I admire your courage,” I said. “To lose so many children, and still be so strong.”

Phyllis stood up and put on her jacket. “Would you like to see my darlings?”

She drew a small photo album from her purse. “This is my Bruno,” she said, flipping the book open to a picture of a proud brown horse. The next photo, three cats: Chaz, Morris and Alfred. Other pictures featured a toy poodle and two birds.

“I miss my lovies.” She smiled shyly. “You probably think I’m overreacting.”

When Phyllis had first mentioned children, my mind automatically went to my own children. But I realized how natural it is to grieve for favoured pets. Animals have souls, too. They love us and when they pass, they enjoy coming back to thank us for being their friends and giving them loving homes.

“Not at all,” I told Phyllis. “I understand.”