Eleonora with her mother at their countryside home in Italy (1994).
A quiet moment from family life.
Why I Wrote This Book
The Medium Was My Mother
I did not grow up thinking my mother was “a medium”.
I grew up thinking she was extraordinary.
Only years after her passing did the clarity of her dreams, her warnings, and her messages become impossible to ignore.
What I once dismissed as intuition became recognisable as something structured, consistent, and spiritually coherent.
This book is not nostalgia.
It is testimony — to continuity, guidance, and a presence that never truly left.
Who She Really Was
My mother was complex, intuitive and quietly brilliant — a woman with a natural dignity, sharp perception and an instinct for truth that rarely failed her. There was something of Lady Violet Crawley in her presence: composed, incisive and effortlessly astute, with a wit that never missed its mark. She analysed situations with the precision of a seasoned criminal lawyer: attentive to detail, unmoved by appearances, and able to see beneath the surface long before anyone else. She moved easily between the sensibilities of working-class life and the upper-class composure she carried so naturally, holding both strength and refinement without ever performing either.
She lived between the visible and the invisible with the same steady intelligence she brought to everyday life — never naming it, never seeking attention, simply moving through the world with a clarity others often misunderstood.
In life her judgement was exact and her intuition lucid; in spirit she became even clearer.
At home, she acknowledged these things lightly, almost playfully. She would sometimes call me her “Harry Potter,” amused by the way I dreamt, sensed or heard something before it unfolded. It was her affectionate way of recognising a sensitivity she had noticed long before I had the language to understand it.
Her presence — in life and beyond it — continues to guide everything I am writing today.
Inside the Book
A precise, unfiltered account of real mediumistic phenomena lived within an Italian family — a lifetime of signs, messages, and spiritual presence that could no longer be dismissed.
A testimony built on evidence, memory, and Spirit:
• Authentic mediumistic experiences described with accuracy and detail.
• Dreams that unfolded exactly as shown — predictive, consistent, impossible to ignore.
• Messages, warnings, and apparitions witnessed across decades.
• An apport — and other Spiritist phenomena — documented with care and certainty.
• The true portrait of a woman who lived naturally between two planes of existence.
• A daughter’s journey from doubt and confusion to spiritual recognition and understanding.
• Spiritist explanations interwoven with lived experience, bringing clarity to the unseen.
• And the unwavering continuity of a mother’s love, a presence that never left.
This is not folklore.
Not imagination.
Not “intuition” misremembered.
It is evidence — steady, tender, and undeniable.
Love does not vanish.
It clarifies.
It strengthens.
It continues.
And the mother who walked between worlds continues still.
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