I’m going to step away from my prompt list. I can do that, it is my list and the words aren’t actually ingrained into stone, even as I do try to stick with it. I like the mental challenge of trying to write something worthy of reading, using those prompts. But this morning, after having been awake and writing at midnight, this morning I want to step to one side and write about signs. Not street signs. Gifts and reminders from loved ones who have moved on to their eternity.
Not long after my husband died, I was told to watch for and be aware of signs around me that he was letting me know he was okay. That he or the angels were watching over me. My personal belief is that once you die, you can’t come back. The Bible speaks of the gulf that is between that life and this. Angles though often travel back and forth, so I believe that they can deliver those messages of reassurance. So, I started watching.
While I was still fighting to get his earthly body home-he was a long haul truck driver who died hundreds of miles away-I went out to try and find a dress to wear when we were finally able to hold his celebration of life. I wanted something somber which I didn’t have. As I was crossing an empty of people, parking lot, I suddenly smelled the cologne he always wore. It was unmistakable and very strong. I stopped cold in my steps and looked around, even looking between vehicles to see if someone was simply waiting in a car. There was no one anywhere around.
One night, just before we got his earthly body home, in a rare moment of light sleep, I heard him call my name. Clear as a bell, I heard his voice. I got out of bed and started toward the living room to see what he needed only to remember. But I know, that I know, that I know, it wasn’t a dream.
I was constantly finding feathers. Even inside buildings. I kept all I found. I still have all but one. I carried one into the plant and for some reason when they brought me my belongings, that feather wasn’t included. But then, not everyone knew how I saw them. To whoever gathered my things, it was probably just a piece of trash to them.
Pennies from Heaven, dropped by angels? To this day, and we’re four weeks away from four years, I find pennies inside my house. I do not carry change in my pockets. Any change I have is immediately tossed into a jar and when I get a couple dollars rolled and deposited. My son may, but he dumps all his change on his desk. I can clean, sweep, vacuum, the carpet and move to cross that just cleaned floor and find a penny.
Once, upon picking up the penny I mumbled aloud, “Pennies are nice dear but do you have any twenties?” The next day I found a twenty dollar bill. I haven’t asked that one again.
Once while checking out at the big box store I looked away from the cost going up and up and was amazed. Inside the store, next to the ceiling was one of the largest, most gorgeous butterflies I had ever seen. Even the person checking out my groceries was amazed. We stood watching it for several moments. Looking back its a good think there wasn’t anyone else in line behind me.
I’ve had butterfly and dragon fly appear out of nowhere and hang around. We had a dragonfly that would land on the gate into the yard and just sit as if visiting. Keeping an eye out for a while before flying away only to return and sit for a while longer.
I dreamed of him the other night. I haven’t done that in a long time.
Maybe that in part is why I am writing this. That and I’m sitting here, looking at a plant, that where I used to work sent to my brother’s celebration of life.
It was a lovely cut flower, stuck into that moss mixture. There was greenery mixed in with the flowers. Once the flowers faded, I sat the pot outside on my back steps. Then ignored it for the most part. The rain we had kept it watered. The type pot has no drainage so the water remained. As summer progressed, I noticed that the greenery was still living. As days passed, I noticed that not only was it living, but it was growing.
When Autumn arrived, I brought it back inside and placed it near the window. I was looking at it a moment ago and it is leaning ever so slightly toward the window and sunlight. The vine with it is reaching outward.
For me, the fact that a cut plant has lived this long, apparently taking root and thriving when it should have died long ago, leaving me with only a yellow planter keepsake, is a wonderful sign. The pennies when there should be none, a plant thriving long after the fact, all a reminder, all proof that while physically they are separated from us, they are still with us.
Their spirit lives on in our hearts. Their memory a treasured keepsake.
My mother talks of how my brother would come in during the warm months and rather that sit in an actual chair, would sit on her wood stove. After he passed, she noticed the imprint left of where he had sat. She actually tried at one point to clear it away, but it remains. Just one more reminder, he promised that she and day would always be looked after, and they are.
I believe, that whether it is our loved ones delivering those signs, or the angels being the messengers of love and reminders, I believe we are given those signs. We simply have to be aware and paying attention. My word for today is actually endearment. I may write something about the word in a while. Right now though, I’m thinking that all of these signs, were and are actually signs of endearment sent to us from those we love and have lost from this life.