FREE SHIPPING on orders over $100

a samhain visitation from the dead


Since my mom died, nearly two years ago, my Samhain practice has shifted.

It used to be, as I assembled the ancestor altar each year, full of grandparents, great grandparents, great aunts and uncles, I would gain a vague appreciation for the folks I came from, folks I hardly knew.

You see, we were the “California cousins” while the rest of our extended family remained in Minnesota. We would see them all once a year, summers spent on farms and lakes in the rural Midwest. And as the years passed, and parents divorced, and life happened, we saw them less and less.

So lovingly placing their pictures on my altar each year felt like a new way of connecting, in death, to people I barely knew in life.

And then mom died. Christmas Eve 2020. So last year was the first year I was invited to include her image on the altar.

And what had felt like this lovely, but somewhat distant and removed practice, became more immediate. And searing. A reminder of what I was deeply missing.

I use this picture from when she was young because I still can’t look at pictures of her as she was in her later years, as the mother I knew, without cracking wide open.


I am not one who communicates easily with spirits. I wish I felt her presence more. I wish there were more signs.

But yesterday I received one.

Not at my beautifully crafted altar, but out in the world.

I was vending at a fall festival. The weather was perfect. The vibe was good. Traffic was slow in that moment, so I did what I do. Sitting in the sun, stringing beads.

And a song that came on. Stevie Wonder’s “I just called to say I love you.”

I was transported. Sitting in the car with my mom and brother. Driving down the road, listening to the soft sounds of 96.5 KOIT.

And I started listening to the lyrics. Not just the chorus, but all the lyrics.

𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘺
𝘕𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘈𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
𝘕𝘰 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦, 𝘯𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴
𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘦𝘴

𝘕𝘰 𝘓𝘪𝘣𝘳𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘯, 𝘯𝘰 𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯
𝘕𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘸
𝘛𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰
𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵

There were little Easter eggs in there for me. The reference to a Libra sun. Mom was a Libra. Christmas joy. Her favorite holiday.

But the real message was that it’s not about any of these holidays or special occasions. It is only, always and forever, about the love.

I never expected my mom to show up as this song. But there she was. Loving me from beyond the veil.

And I think this message is for all of us.

If you, like me, are deeply missing someone this Samhain, or any day at all, I highly recommend listening to this song.

And knowing deep within your bones.
You are loved.
From the great beyond.


Leave a comment