“The blue heron was flying too close, right at me.” The small group sat around the table, taking turns talking about signs they’d received from their children who died: ravens that stared, the moon suddenly peeking out of a totally clouded sky, a butterfly landing and staying longer than it should, phone calls with no caller, a television that suddenly turned on by itself … I nodded in agreement. Yes, I’d seen that, I’d felt my daughter’s presence. But it had been a long time. I was sad, wondering if maybe my time for receiving signs was over.
The signs I’d gotten were different. Small notes Marika had written would appear at pertinent times. Like the Mother’s Day card I found in May last year. And her drawing of a rabbit, our favorite animal, in a heart with a speech-cloud that said, “Welcome Home Mom.” I’d found it just before leaving on the trip to Australia to scatter her ashes, and then placed it on the mantle by the front door, to be the first thing I saw when I returned home. Sometimes I’d be searching for something and a gift of Marika’s would surface instead. From the time she could hold a crayon, she’d been writing and drawing. During her lifetime, she and I must have stashed thousands of these things away. The “messages” kept popping up the past four years even though I’d long ago cleaned out Marika’s room and scoured the house for any signs of her.
The morning after the group meeting I was searching for my will. When you look for something, you always find something else, I should know by now. Stuck under a pile of papers was this:
Farther and farther I went. I found my mother she went with me.
I went back up. I gasped for air. W[h]ere was I. I was on land! I am magic!
I am a beluga whale. I was just made. I looked at my creator for the last time. She was gone. I was falling deep into the water! I heard a soothing sound like a lullaby. I started swimming.
What signs have you experienced or heard about? Do you believe in signs from after death?
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I was mowing the lawn in the big and open front yard. It was a heavy mower and I was working to move it. Suddenly I was physically pushed hard from behind. I turned around but nobody was there. Just then I heard a little girl giggle and sensed more than saw a bare bum. I said, Hello. It wasn’t Nick but maybe he was playing with a little girl and he pushed her, or he said to her Go push my mom. I was smiling as I finished off the lawn. He felt very near. Thanks for writing your post Robin.
Whoa! That is so sweet. It’s so great to be able to feel their nearness sometimes. I love that, Susan. Thanks so much.
Such a blessing!!! I am eternally grateful for our precious children and the way they continue to speak to us! Sometime subtle, but always there, if we open our hearts to that “thin place” between here and there…
Keeping you and Marika in my heart…
The thin place – thank you, Joleen. I’ve been searching for a good term for it. Cheers!
Nicely written article. How long was that drawing made by your daughter hidden from your view?
My daughter must have done this and presented it to me well over ten years ago. I guess it got covered up by piles of “important papers” over time. If I hadn’t had the notion to check on my will, last updated about ten years ago, I might not have found this. Thanks for your question, Robert.
I never did find the will.
Hi, Robin.
I love this post. That’s such a beautiful sign from your Marika. To this day, I swear my best friend visited me the year following her death. It was a strange one, because I was swimming at the time. I had an overwhelming sense that if I were to continue on the path I was taking, I’d bump into somebody. It was definitely a female energy. When I turned to check, of course there was nobody there. I kept doing what I was doing, and each time, ‘she’ moved back. Eventually, I thought ‘Thank you’, and that energy disappeared. I’ve cherished that for nearly 7 years.
Take care,
Casey
Thank you so much for sharing your experience, Casey. I’m sorry you lost your best friend. I love that you felt her presence that time in the water. It is neat to to think a good friend may be watching and wishing you well. Cheers!