Between Worlds: When a Child Crosses Over and the Soul Keeps Speaking

There are no words that make it “better.”
But there are frequencies that can make it bearable.
And there is truth that can make it beautiful again, in a way you didn’t expect.

When someone we love, especially a child, crosses over, this dimension feels unbearably loud with absence. The toys still in the corner. The favorite cup left on the shelf. The song that randomly plays on the radio at 11:11. The grief is a tidal wave that rolls through your DNA. And yet… something else begins to stir in the silence.

That something is the soul speaking.

Dolores Cannon often reminded us, “We are not a body with a soul, we are a soul temporarily using a body.” And souls, bless them, do not vanish when breath leaves the lungs. They transition. They reroute. They remember. And sometimes, they begin to guide.

Whether it’s a child, a partner, a pet, a parent, or even a beloved place, when something we love is no longer physically present, the invitation becomes this: Can we learn to connect in a new language?

The Language of the Beyond

Souls that have crossed over often communicate through soft, symbolic echoes. A dream that feels more real than waking life. A specific animal that shows up repeatedly. An inexplicable scent. Technology glitches. A lyric you needed, right when you needed it.

Tyler Henry, renowned medium, once said, “They don’t want to scare us, they want to remind us.” And in those subtle nudges, that’s exactly what’s happening, a reminder that connection is not broken, only transformed.

For parents grieving a child, this connection can feel both sacred and devastating. There is no “getting over” this kind of loss. But there is a way to walk with it, honoring the depth of pain without getting lost in it. Sometimes, your child becomes your guide. Sometimes, they come to you in dreams just to say, “I’m okay. Are you?”

If you’re unsure whether you’re making it up or actually receiving a message, you’re probably receiving a message. The mind doubts. The heart already knows.

Creating a Bridge Between Worlds

You don’t need to be a mystic or psychic to connect with the unseen. Try this:

• Speak aloud to your loved one or pet like they’re still with you. You’d be amazed what shifts when you stop waiting for a “sign” and simply start the conversation.

• Write a letter. Or let them write through you. Sit with pen and paper, breathe, and allow words to flow.

• Use music as a portal. Their favorite song. Or one that randomly plays when you think of them, there’s meaning in that.

• Create ritual without pressure. Light a candle. Plant a tree. Dedicate a meal. Build a tiny altar. Anything physical that allows you to honor their energetic presence.

Grief has no linear timeline. Mary Rowell teaches that grief is the echo of deep love, and we don’t need to suppress it. We can alchemize it. In this way, grief becomes a womb where remembrance and rebirth coexist.

When the Place Itself Dies

Sometimes the loss is a home, a community, a chapter of your life that feels like a whole separate dimension. These endings can feel like death, too. And guess what? Energy lives in those places. You can return energetically to offer closure. You can walk through your old home in meditation. You can send a blessing to that younger version of you who once lived there. You’re not being cuckoo, you’re honoring the multidimensional map of your own soul.

You Are Not Alone (Even When It Feels Like It)

If you're reading this in the messy middle, in the quiet house, in the heavy moment after a celebration of life, or on the edge of an emotional cliff, know this: You haven’t lost your mind. You’ve lost someone you love. But they haven’t lost you.

You are still connected. Still loved. Still receiving guidance, even when you don’t feel strong enough to listen. They know. They see. They send you the courage anyway.

What if the depth of your grief is the same depth as your love?

What if this life transition is not the end of your story, but the activation of your next soul book?

What if they are walking with you, whispering: “You don’t have to forget me to keep living. You just have to remember me differently.”

This space was made to hold what others may not say out loud. Whether through Light Language, channeled messages, or simply sacred listening, you are welcome to bring it here. Zero shame. Zero timeline. Simply soul.

What has your grief been trying to teach you about love beyond the veil?