Column by Linda R. Jones
The signs of our departed loved ones are everywhere. They are alright. They are at peace. They want us to enjoy our lives and the beauty around us.
My daughter-in-law is sensitive to signs from nature or a higher power. For her, the signs are butterflies. She even says it in German, “Schmetterling,” and has taught my granddaughter as well. The first butterfly appeared when my daughter-in-law went to visit her Nanaw at the cemetery for the first time. After that visit, she saw Schmetterling everywhere. She finds it soothing and peaceful, as if her Nanaw is looking over her.
I’m not that sensitive. I wanted signs from my father that he was alright. Maybe I’ve been trying too hard searching for signs since my father died. Yet, on the first anniversary of his death, I had my signs. Maybe I had the signs because I had decided to celebrate his life that day.
At first, the signs were so subtle I barely noticed. The poem “Don’t Quit” by John Greenleaf Whittier was circulating on social media that my family and I shared for over 30 years. “Hmmm. Interesting. The entire poem is what I learned from Pop. Keep on trucking even when times are tough.”
I had wanted to special order flowers for his celebration and thought of what he would say: “Ach. Don’t waste your money. Pick some flowers.” Well, flowers aren’t blooming in March so I went to the local grocery store. I was prepared for no purple or lavender hues and tried to figure out how to improvise. But there, in the flower section, was a beautiful arrangement in the colors of my choice with a purple bow on the vase. It was also at a reduced price.
March 2nd was an unusually delightful day and I sat on the deck with my coffee in the mid-morning. There were so many birds of all types. I thought it was peculiar for March. One spectacular dove landed on a tree branch almost eye level from where I was sitting. I started to talk to him and he kept tilting his head as if he knew what I was saying. This went on for about 15 minutes and I said, “I miss ya, Pop.” The dove ruffled his feathers, stuck out his chest, and had the most elegant pose. I was awe-struck. He looked at me one more time and flew off.
The last sign was from my neighbor. Her daughter was pregnant and having the labor induced. Why on March 2nd? Why not the 1st or the 3rd? She started at six in the morning. My neighbor was the understandably concerned mother and grandmother. I told her that today of all days I felt completely confident. A perfect little girl was born at 11:09 p.m.
A beautiful life left on March 2, 2015 and a beautiful life entered exactly one year later. Signs and the circle of life.
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:”
Ecclesiastes 3:1
(Henry Alfred Rudolph. Born April 2, 1930. Died March 2, 2015.)
(Arylena Katharina Kenyon born March 2, 2016 at 11:09 p.m.)
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