The Day Katherine finally "met" Catarina

The Day Great-Grandmother Catarina Finally Got to Tell Her Story
What happens when the cards become a bridge between worlds

You know how sometimes the universe conspires to give you exactly what you need, exactly when you need it, even when you have no idea that's what's happening?

That's what occurred the afternoon Katherine walked into my space for her Beloved Dead Tarot Session.

She settled into the chair across from me, fidgeting with her sleeves, that familiar look of someone carrying invisible weight. "I feel so lost, Jennifer," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Like I'm walking through life in someone else's skin, making choices that don't fit, following a path that isn't mine."

I nodded, shuffling the Relative Tarot Deck between my hands, feeling that familiar tingle that tells me we're about to dive deep.

"Tell me about your family," I said, beginning to lay out the fifteen cards in their sacred pattern. "What do you know about the women who came before you?"

Katherine shrugged. "Not much, honestly. My great-grandmother Catarina died when my grandmother was little. Nobody really talks about her. It's like she just... disappeared from our family story."

{Ah, there it is.}

When the Cards Start Whispering, the first few cards painted the expected picture—Katherine's  childhood filled with "shoulds" and "supposed tos," the pressure to be practical, safe, conventional. But when I flipped that seventh card, the one representing ancestral gifts, my breath caught.

Queen of Cups, reversed. Surrounded by cards of hidden knowledge and buried truth.

"Katherine," I said, my fingers tracing the card's edges, "there's a woman in your lineage who had to hide her gifts. She's been trying to reach you for a very long time."

The tears came immediately. "Catarina?"

"Tell me what you feel when I say her name."

"Sadness. Like... like something important was lost." Katherine wiped her eyes. "Is that crazy?"

"Crazy? Honey, if feeling the truth is crazy, then we're all beautifully insane."

Catarina's story began to emerge like morning light breaking through curtains.

The Nine of Swords revealed her fear—living in a time when women like her, women who could see beyond the ordinary, were dangerous.
The Hermit showed how she practiced her healing gifts in secret, helping women in her community under cover of darkness.
The Star card practically glowed with her connection to something divine, something she could never fully express in her lifetime.
And then, the Ten of Pentacles reversed.
The card of legacy disrupted, inheritance denied.

"She was erased, wasn't she?" Katherine whispered, understanding dawning in her eyes.
"Not erased," I corrected gently. "Hidden. Waiting for the right moment, the right person, to bring her gifts back into the light."

Katherine's hands were shaking now. "I've always felt this pull toward healing work. Ever since I was little, I could sense when people were hurting, sometimes before they even knew it themselves.
But I ignored it.
Went into accounting because it was 'practical.'"

{Of course you did -- Catarina probably told you to.}

The Moment Everything Shifted was when the thirteenth card—ancestral guidance for Katherine's  path—revealed itself as The High Priestess. Pure, undiluted intuitive power.

Katherine stared at it for a long moment, then looked up at me with wonder. "She's been trying to tell me, hasn't she? All these years of feeling restless, feeling like I'm living the wrong life—that's Catarina?"

"That's Catarina," I confirmed. "And probably your grandmother, and maybe even your mother, all carrying gifts they couldn't fully express, passing them down through the bloodline until they reached someone who could finally shine them into the world."

We finished the spread in reverent silence, the final cards showing Katherine's path forward: trust the gifts, seek the training, break the cycle of hiding that had haunted the women in her family for generations.

"Catarina had to dim her light," I told Katherine as we sat together with the cards spread between us. "But she's been guiding you toward a time when you can let yours shine freely.
Every time you've felt that knowing in your bones, every time you've sensed someone's pain before they spoke—that's Catarina, whispering through your DNA."

Six months later,  (Because the Universe Loves a Good Follow-Up), Katherine sent me a photo last week from her energy healing certification. She's radiant, lit up from the inside like a woman who's finally come home to herself.

"I can feel Catarina with me every time I work with a client," she wrote. "It's like she's finally free to practice her gifts through me.
We're healing each other across time, Jennifer. Both of us are finally whole."

"Yes, it is when we are finally ready to listen, our ancestors speak."



Why This Work Reveals So Much--

This is what happens in a Beloved Dead Tarot Session.
​We don't just get guidance for tomorrow—we uncover the love stories that have been shaping us all along.
The gifts running in our spiritual bloodline.
The wisdom that death couldn't silence.
Your ancestors aren't gone, love.
They're woven into the very fabric of who you are, and their guidance is available when you know how to listen.
The cards become their voice, their way of reaching across the veil to share what they couldn't in life—or what they've been trying to tell you all along.
Sometimes the most profound healing happens when we realize we're not walking this path alone.
That the gifts we carry, the callings we feel, the dreams that won't leave us be—they've been lovingly nurtured by those who came before us, waiting for the right moment to bloom.

What story are your ancestors waiting to tell you? What gifts have they been whispering through your bloodline?

Ready to discover the love letters your ancestors have been sending?
Book your Beloved Dead Tarot Session and let the cards reveal the wisdom that's been waiting for you all along.
Visit www.energytouchintuition.com to begin your journey home to ancestral wisdom.
Because where love never ends, wisdom endures.

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