We Are Never Alone. Anthony Quinata
never die. My body died, but my love for you will never die.” Then he thanked me for being there for him in his last moments and thanked me for telling him it was okay to go (I did). He talked about how I caressed his head before he passed.
And again Anthony Q said, “He wants me to tell you how much he loves you. I just don’t have the words to tell you how much, he loves you beyond what any words can say. I love you for eternity. My love for you will never die. He just keeps saying, “I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You.” He shows me how you two hugged all the time (we did, even in the grocery store aisles) and he’s still hugging you,” Anthony Q told me.
Again Anthony Q said, “I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You! He cannot say it enough and the hug doesn’t end. He knows you miss his hugs and he’s still hugging you.”
Then I remembered something. A few weeks back I was going through a box of old papers and tossing them away. There was so much I was just grabbing handfuls of papers and throwing them out. Then I heard a voice in my head say, “Don’t go so fast. There’s something in there that you won’t want to throw out.” So I slowed down. Sure enough, a few pieces of paper later, I found the last card he ever gave me. It had a picture of the soles of feet of a little boy and a little girl and inside it said, “Sole mates from the start, Happy Anniversary.”
Then he wrote “I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You. Love, Anthony”
Anthony Q was floored by this! He explained that he thought that Anthony was at a loss for words to express his love for me, and that is why he kept saying, “I Love You, I Love You, I Love You, I Love You” . . . but I knew he was referring to the card! This was another instance through which he wanted to show me that even if I don’t feel him or hear him, He Is Always There with Me! Then Anthony Q said, “He’s saying, ‘please know that I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . with that, he and Domenico are gone.” Anthony Q then quickly clarified, “They’re gone from me but not from you!”
This reading did so much for me. It gave me renewed confidence that my Anthony, Domenico, and all my loved ones are still with me, regardless of whether I can hear them or not. Suddenly I no longer felt alone. And I now had a feeling of purpose again.
I knew that Anthony Q was going to help me find direction. I realized days later that I had made Anthony responsible for my happiness. Then when he was gone (at least in body), my world crumbled and I felt like I would never be able to be happy again. I realized that it is the love that I feel for myself that is what is important. I began to look for love from within rather than from others. In this way I would be honoring Anthony the most.
I recorded the reading and later was amazed that it was just over an hour long. There was so much information relayed to me constantly that it felt more like two hours. Anthony Q’s gift is so precious; it has helped to turn my life around.
Sofia Pico-Ambrosio
Anthony’s note—One of the criticisms I’ve heard is that the souls all seem to say the same thing—“I love you.” My response is that no matter how often someone who loves you says it, does it mean any less because they said it before?
Tonight Sophia’s husband kept insisting that I tell her he was saying, “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” So I did.
“He loves you beyond words,” I told her, trying to explain why I kept repeating this message to her. No other explanation was necessary. She knew why he kept saying it.
“A few days ago I was throwing away papers of his and I found a card from him. When I opened it, it had the most beautiful message. He had written over, and over again, ‘I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . .’”
I was floored. So was Sophia. What a great way to let his wife know it was really him.
What a great message for all of us from the souls of our loved ones in the hereafter. “I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you. My physical life ended . . . my love for you never will.”
Introduction
On Labor Day 2009, I was at a small gathering, sitting at a picnic table when a woman sat down in front of me. We introduced ourselves, and she asked what I did for a living.
“I’m a psychic medium,” I told her. Her expression was blank, so I asked “Do you know what that is?”
She nodded. “Are you famous?” she asked me.
“Well, I’m internationally acclaimed,” I said. “Does that count?”
She shrugged her shoulders, got up from the table, and walked away.
That night, as I lay in bed, I wondered, “Why aren’t I more well-known?”
In all honesty, fame wasn’t something I cared about. In fact, I was perfectly comfortable flying under the radar. I had built a good reputation for myself as a medium, and most of the people who came to me for readings were referred to me. I had done readings for people from Asia, Europe, the British Isles, Canada, Australia, and of course, the United States.
Still, her question, “Are you famous?” kept going through my mind. “If I did decide to come out from ‘behind the curtain,’” I said to myself, “I’d do it by writing a book.”
Let us fast forward to March 2010. I was contacted by a woman named Denise who told me she had heard good things about me from a friend of hers. She wanted to hire me to do a reading. As usual, she didn’t tell me whom she wanted to hear from, and I didn’t want to know.
The soul who came through for her and her family the night of the reading was Denise’s daughter Jasmine, who had taken her own life on Christmas Day 2009.
Three weeks after Denise’s reading I was awakened from a sound sleep. “What the . . . ?” I thought as I looked around my bedroom. “Oh, hi, Jasmine,” I said silently so as not to wake up Cheryl, my girlfriend at the time.
“You have to write a book,” Jasmine told me.
“Jasmine . . . honey . . . it’s . . . ,” I looked at the clock next to me, “3:30 in the morning. Can this wait until I wake up around 7?”
“No, you have to write a book for my mom, and everyone who is grieving,” Jasmine insisted.
“Jasmine, I promise I’ll get started on it after I wake up . . .”
“You’ve been thinking about writing a book for years . . .” It’s true. I had talked about writing a book for years. I just didn’t want to write a book about mediumship. I had received my certification in Spiritual Direction in 1999 from the Mercy Center in Colorado Springs, Colorado. I thought I’d write a book about spirituality, which I defined as “bringing spirit into reality.”
“I don’t know what I’d write,” I protested.
“This is what your book can look like,” Jasmine responded. I saw a vision of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’ book, a series of essays entitled Life after Death.
“I can do this,” I thought as I got out of bed.
For the next two weeks Jasmine was my constant companion, encouraging me as I wrote my book, suggesting chapter subjects, and how to arrange my book.
“Okay, Jasmine, this was your idea, now I need you to help me find a publisher.”
I submitted my manuscript to five traditional publishers. One of them I never heard back from. I received two rejection notices, and two expressed an interest