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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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In life her judgement was exact and her intuition lucid; in spirit she became even clearer.
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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.
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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.
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A testimony built on evidence, memory, and Spirit:
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• 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.
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This is not folklore.
Not imagination.
Not “intuition” misremembered.
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It is evidence — steady, tender, and undeniable.
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Love does not vanish.
It clarifies.
It strengthens.
It continues.
And the mother who walked between worlds continues still.