We Are Never Alone. Anthony Quinata
Press).
People assumed that because I was a published author, I was making more money than I could spend. Nothing could have been further from the truth, even though my book was selling around the world. I often spent hours, late at night or early in the morning, talking people “off of the ledge” without being paid for my time or asking to be paid, but still being accused of “profiteering” off of the grieving. I found my savings dwindling to the point where I had no money put aside at all.
Then the day came when every penny I had was gone. I was afraid. I didn’t know how I was going to pay my rent and bills, let alone how I was going to buy food to eat. I became angry and resentful against the souls and the Eternal Light of Love. I went out one day to try to find a “real” job, but heard the souls insist that it wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing.
“What do you want from me?” became my daily prayer. I found myself reexamining my life, my “gift,” and the question of whether or not I wanted to continue doing the work. More than once, I told myself and God that I was done doing the work, only to make myself available to anyone who wanted a reading. If someone honestly couldn’t manage to pay for a reading, I’d waive my fee, even if it meant that by doing so, I couldn’t afford to buy groceries to feed myself.
Looking back, I see now that what God and the souls wanted was my attention. I had my own ideas of how my life would progress, and it wasn’t until I finally gave up on the idea of living my life the way I wanted to live it that I was able to understand that the time had come for me to move beyond being a “medium” to becoming a teacher.
The souls not only needed me to rethink my life, but they also needed to make me a better listener to what they were saying. What the souls wanted to tell me, and I wouldn’t hear, was that the readings I had been doing were now meant for a greater purpose. I couldn’t just be a bystander passing along the messages I heard only to their loved ones. I needed to pay attention to what was being said so that I could pass them along in a way that was much more far-reaching than to just those who were sitting in a session with me.
They wanted me to share what they had to say, teaching and creating hope in the hearts of anyone who was willing to listen. They wanted me to expand my vision of the work I was doing and my place in it so that I would to realize that they weren’t just communicating with their loved ones anymore—they were communicating to everyone on earth who would listen to their wisdom.
The souls were telling me that the time had come for me to write this book and then created the events that made it possible for me to do so.
While the souls cannot tell us how to live our lives, they do their best to guide us, and inspire us, to make the journey while we’re here a little more significant and prolific, empowering us to reap the rewards we can earn in the hereafter for doing so when our life here is over.
They want us to know that they haven’t abandoned or forgotten us. They’re here to help us whenever we truly need them.
I’ve learned a great deal while being privileged to be a part of sessions I’ve eavesdropped on as the souls share messages to their loved ones here. What I’ve heard has helped me not to fear the ending of my life or the lives of my loved ones.
The souls want to assure us that when the time comes for our loved ones and for us to crossover, there is nothing to worry about. They often talk about where they live, and where we will live, when it’s our time. They talk about how happy and peaceful everything is in the hereafter. They work very hard to bring a three-dimensional reality to a world we can’t yet see.
What you are about to read comes from the Eternal Light of Love through the souls. I cannot take any credit for some of the incredible things the souls want you to know about the life that waits for you when your journey here on earth is done. The material in this book is strictly from the souls and from what I learned when I finally started paying attention to what they were saying during the sessions they sent my way. If I wrote something contrary to what they wanted me to say, I’d find myself deleting sentences, paragraphs, and even chapters, and rewriting them until I was conveying the messages they need us to know while here on earth.
The souls insisted that this book contain real questions from real people. Let me reiterate that the replies to these questions aren’t my responses. Whenever I was asked a question, I would typically go for a walk and listen to what the souls had to say. And talk they did.
My hope, and the hope of the souls, is that those who read this book will also know that there is nothing to fear—nothing at all! We are never alone on this journey back home.
Anthony Quinata
April 30, 2014
CHAPTER
1
What My Father Saw
On Thanksgiving Day 2009, my sisters Meridith and Nadine went to Saint John of God’s assisted living facility in Los Angeles, California, where both my mother Rosalia and my father Antonio were in the hospital unit on the grounds. My father was there having suffered a heart attack the week before. My mother was there because she had broken her ankle. Because she suffering from moderate Alzheimer’s, she couldn’t understand why she was in a cast and confined to a wheelchair. My sisters were there to bring them food that was typically cooked on the island of Guam to celebrate the holiday.
Nadine went to my father’s room to let him know that Meridith was getting my mother from her room so that they could enjoy a meal together. While she was talking to my father, she noticed that he wasn’t paying attention to her but looking off to the right at the ceiling. “What are you looking at, Dad?” she asked him.
Our father looked at her and said, “I’ve been there before, baby. I don’t know when . . . I don’t know how . . . but I’ve been there before.” He turned his attention back to the ceiling and something Nadine couldn’t see.
“Where have you been before, Dad? What do you see?” Nadine asked, worried that he was hallucinating. “Dad, what is my name? What day is today? How many children do you have?”
My father turned his attention back to her and said, “Deena, I’m okay.” With that he again looked away from her and up at the ceiling. Meridith wheeled my mother in, and they all ate dinner together. My father put aside his dessert, saying he would eat it later.
The next morning at 4 a.m. a nurse checked in on my father and saw that he was sound asleep.
At 6 a.m. when he was checked on again, he had passed away.
Nadine told me this story the day before his funeral. “What do you think he saw?” she asked me.
“Home.”
CHAPTER
2
There Is More Than This
Long before my father made his transition from this life to the hereafter . . . long before Angel told me that I myself had died, crossed over, and come back with knowledge to share with the world . . . long before Rick told me that my time as a medium was coming to an end so I could teach what the souls have taught me, I was standing on the sidewalk of a shopping center . . . and weeping—in front of God and anyone who happened to be walking by.
I was thinking about my friend, Camille, whom I loved, then and now. I was thinking about my family, my mother and father, and my brothers and sisters. And I was wondering what happened after life ended.
I remember praying to Christ, “You’d better not have been lying! I don’t care about myself, but there had better be something more than this. If there isn’t, then what’s the point? Why do we love one another? We could just procreate like animals . . .” I don’t remember what I said after that. All I remember was that I grieving for those I loved who hadn’t even died. I was grieving