“Sign, sign, everywhere a sign. Blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind.” Five Man Electric Band

I believe in signs. I see them all the time: In clouds in the sky; a cardinal sitting on the power lines outside my house, singing to me; shiny pennies that appear in strange places; and yes, even heart-shaped rubber bands on my bathroom counter. And, while I don’t often dream, or perhaps just don’t remember them, I seem to be more aware of them lately. In fact, recently I awoke in the night and distinctly heard my husband calling my name. . . or at least I dreamed that I did. Another time, just several weeks after he died last April 1st, he visited me in a dream, to “check in on me” he said, because he saw that I was having a particularly difficult time trying to accept the fact that he had, indeed, died. But the most unusual one by far happened one morning when I put my night mouth guard into its cleaning container, filled it with water, and plopped in the fizzy little cleaning tablet. A few seconds later, when I went to shut the cover, I looked down, and there was a smiling face looking up at me. I am not kidding! Two bubbles were in just the right place for eyes, and the thin film that forms on top of the water after the fizzing had stopped had parted just enough, and again, in just the right spot, to make a perfect smile. I had to look twice to really believe what I was seeing. I looked Heavenward, smiled back, and said, “Thank you, Brian! I love you, too.”

Eight years ago my 92 year old father died. For as long as I can remember he had loved vanilla ice cream. So, it was only fitting that at his funeral lunch we serve vanilla ice cream. There were multiple cartons of it, but one of them turned out to hold something more valuable than just Dad’s favorite treat. When we opened the plastic lid and laid it upside down on the table, there it was: A perfect smiley face made from ice cream on the inside of the lid! We rushed that lid into a Ziploc bag and put it in the church freezer. When the lunch was over, my mother took the lid home and gave it a place of honor in her freezer. She told me more than once that when she was feeling low and missing my dad, she would go to the freezer and get out that smiling ice cream lid, and it wasn’t long before she would be feeling better. My mother only lived for two more years after Dad died, and when I cleared out her freezer, the lid was still there, smiling away at me like a long, lost friend. Only, this time, instead of just sending me a message from my dad, seeing it felt like a message from both, saying; “Thanks. We love you, too, Sweetie.”

So, when you find yourself feeling particularly down, and missing your spouse, leave your heart and mind open for the signs they are sending you. They are there. You only have to look . . . and believe.

“Life is short and it’s up to you to make is sweet.”

Sarah Louise Delany