For most of my life, I believed spiritual connection was something you were born with, a rare gift given to a chosen few. Strange things happened around me, but I brushed them off as coincidence. As “weird.”
I told myself real connection to the spirit world wasn’t for someone like me.

What I didn’t realise was this:

It wasn’t happening to me.
It was happening within me.

Everything changed when my dad passed away.

I got the phone call that he wasn’t well and needed to come quickly. I boarded a plane from Australia to Germany convinced I’d make it in time.

I didn’t. By the time I landed, he was gone.

I remember collapsing onto the airport floor — paralysed by grief, shock, anger. I cried for two hours. Alone. Completely shattered.

I was angry he hadn’t waited.
Angry we never got our closure.
Angry there were still words unsaid.

And to make it harder, he had chosen not to have a funeral. There was no ceremony. No goodbye. No space to release what I’d carried for so long.

Two nights later, something happened that changed everything.

I was sitting quietly in a room when a wind chime in the corner began to move — slowly, deliberately — as if someone had run their hand around its edges.

There was no draft. No open windows. No explanation.

In that moment, I knew it was my dad...........