Recently I had an experience that moved past the dying process and into the process that takes place on the other side.

One morning I was talking to my friend, Chris, online when he suddenly sent me an instant message saying that he had to go because his friend Steven was sick and needed him. Steven had had a seizure of some kind, probably from a stroke, and he was very, very sick. Chris was naturally upset and very worried.

As the week progressed Steven grew worse. He had more and more strokes. Soon he could no longer speak. Not long after that he stopped responding to those around him. The doctors even tried operating, but it didn't help. After a week of preparation Steven was ready to leave. An operating room was at the ready to harvest his organs so others might have a second chance at life. He died on Memorial Day.

The following day Chris and I got into quite an argument. I was really upset and so was he. I had gone down to my "batcave," where my computer lived, and was logging on to the net when I heard someone talking to me. There was nobody in the room, but the words were very clear. A voice said that if I would go to Sally (a beauty supply company) I could get something better to put on my hair than the stuff I was currently using. Now that was a weird one! I realized this was not me. I had a sense that it could be Chris's friend, Steven, but I thought, "Why would he contact me? He was Chris's friend, and I had never even met him. Also, why would he approach me with haircare advice, of all things?"

The next thing that happened was strange too, but also awesome and moving. I leaned back in my chair to listen to him talk to me and shut my eyes to concentrate. Suddenly, my usually black screen was flooded with color and form and texture. Wonderful shapes and vibrant colors moved through me and left the signature of the feelings that had inspired them. I was overcome with emotion, and I cried and cried.

I felt immediately compelled to drag out the canvasses I had been saving and paint. I described these images to Chris, when I caught him online, and he became very excited. He insisted that these were the kind of paintings that his friend, Steven, did. He told me that Steven was an artist. Later on, when I told him about the hairdressing advice, I learned that Steven was also a hairstylist, an occupation he followed to help support himself and his art. I decided then and there that this was sufficient validation, but the Universe provided me with even more.

I was given an opportunity to go to Steven's memorial service as a helper for my roommate, who was organizing dinner for all those attending. When I got there, I went down into a garden area and sat looking at the table that was being set up for the service. There was a picture of Steven there, so, finally, I got to see what he looked like. People had put flowers and memorabilia on the table, too. It was a pleasant and relaxed setting, very beautiful. I allowed myself to breathe in the atmosphere and the peace. Suddenly it was broken when the voice said, "Look!" People came into the garden with paintings, THE paintings! The ones I had seen!

I had to sit down. Once again, I was flooded with the feelings and emotion of the images that had previously been shared with me. And here they were right in front of me. Real canvas and real paint. The voice laughed. It was Steven.

Later that day, Steven talked to me in earnest. He had a great deal to say to me about my path, about his friend, Chris, and about his desire to be of service. Listening to him felt a lot like channeling, and in a way, I guess that's just what it was. Steven jokingly informed me that Chris and I were worse drama queens than even he had been - and he had really been into drama while in human form! Steven said things that made me laugh and also made me think. I felt easy and accepting of his presence and began look forward to my communications with him. He had a safe and protective feel, like a big brother, and I liked it.

A few days after Steven's memorial I landed a job in a crystal shop. I was thrilled, as I love crystals and have such a deep past with them. On my second day there, a woman came in who seemed familiar in some way. I asked her if she had recently lost someone. She simply said, "yes," and looked at me quite strangely. She was in a hurry and didn't stop to inquire as to why I had asked.

Later on, she came back to talk to the owner of the shop about some handmade items. She had a book containing pictures of the beautiful pillows and handbags she made. As I leafed through the book, I came to a page that had a picture of her pillows propped up against two paintings. The paintings were the same ones I had recently envisioned and had been planning to do when I had some free time to be with the canvas and acrylics. I was really blown away by this and asked her, quite excitedly, who had painted them. She answered, "These were painted by my very first roommate and long-time friend who died just one week ago. His name was Steven." Once again, I heard Steven's laughter resounding in my head.

That was the last validation I got from Steven that he really was there. His presence remained with me strongly for about a month, and then he began to feel further away and less anxious to communicate. I feel like he is preoccupied with his new body and the process of learning how to manage it. Sometimes I still call to him and feel his energy, so I know he is still around. I am grateful that I got to meet and know Steven, even though I never touched his hand, shared a big hug or heard his human voice. My experience with him was validation for me that we really are okay on the other side, and that the veil is so thin we can reach out whenever we want and hug each other through it.

We are never, ever alone.

Woman, Spirit, mother, artist, teacher, writer, friend - Carol Holaday spent her first 41 formative years on the Great South Plains in the small city of Lubbock, TX, home of Buddy Holly as well as many other creative souls. Carol has a degree in Art, as well as training and certification in perinatal education and counseling and Reiki healing, and is the mother of three, for which she has no license or certificate. She recently relocated to San Diego, CA where she continues to teach, write and find her sweet spot.