I Saw the Sign.

We all receive signs from our loved ones who have passed.

I mentioned in my “About Me” section that a few of my deceased family and friends send me little “hello” messages from the other side pretty frequently. They’ve probably always been there, but I wasn’t emotionally and spiritually open enough to acknowledge them. I believe we all receive messages from the “other side” (this is what I call it, but you can insert your favorite word instead, like heaven, nirvana, etc.), and each one is personal between the sender and recipient. I started noticing them a few hours after our daughter, Francesca, passed away in 2008.

Francesca’s first sign was unmistakable and clear. We had finally left the hospital after spending a few hours with her body. As we walked by a green street bench, I noticed a tiny pink sandal sitting by itself. There was no one around, and it was perfect. Perfect and untouched. Brand new. I knew it was her saying hi from the other side telling me she was okay. She continued to send signs in other ways for years afterwards, some more startling than others.

Seeing the pink shoe outside the hospital marked the beginning of an amazing journey I continue to have. Since then, a handful of friends and family who have passed send me little hellos frequently. I’m grateful for each message as it gives me hope and a tiny hug of love from the sender. This has been my norm for the past 11 years, so I usually keep them to myself unless they’re really fantastic. In March 2020, however, I had the honor of relaying a message between a mom and her recently deceased son that I must share. It astounded me, and I am grateful for the experience.

We have a handyman business and have many repeat, long-term clients that become like family to us (and probably vice versa). The Brown family was one of those clients. Their son, Scott, passed away on a Friday afternoon unexpectedly at home after laying down to take an afternoon nap. He lived with them at the moment. He was only 46. I heard the news on Monday when my husband arrived at their home to do their scheduled handyman work. Adam completed the work per their wishes despite the somber environment, and while working, he silently wished Scott happiness and peace where he is now. Moments later, a dead, gigantic royal palm frond dropped without warning, just missing his head! They are so huge and come from such a height that it could have killed him. Just then, Mrs. Brown walks out the front door, sees the fallen frond and laughs, saying Scott loved those things. He used to carve things out of the hard husk. Adam relays this to me, and I too am saddened by their loss. I had met him briefly a few times, but I didn’t know him well.

Later that afternoon I was home alone in the kitchen. Everyone left for a school event, so I took a few minutes to just sit and let everything sink in. I silently and somewhat comically asked Scott what I should get for his parents in condolence. I’m not a big fan of giving flowers in bereavement, but I didn’t know them well enough to know of an appropriate substitute. Maybe Scott could help me! I laughed at myself though because I had never communicated with anyone outside my family. Trying to communicate with someone I barely knew seemed ridiculous. There were probably rules to this or something, and I’m sure being related needed to be one of them. But I let it go and went about picking up the dinner mess in the dining room. Twenty minutes later, I went into the office (which is just in a bedroom) to grab my phone. I picked it up, typed in my password to unlock it, and it opened to my Google calendar. That is normal – I use it daily. The calendar was opened to Friday, March 6, however, which was unusual because today was Monday, March 9. I had no reason to go back in my calendar three days earlier, but maybe it just did it accidentally, I thought. No big deal. I looked at my college classes scheduled – they looked normal in “orange.” I stared at it a bit longer though because it looked like I had an extra event scheduled in “purple” that I didn’t create. I opened it to see the details. I had an extra event scheduled in for Friday, March 6, titled “Mom” followed by 9 alcohol-related emoticons (beer and wine specifically). ??? What?! My heart skipped a beat because it looked like Scott, our deceased client’s son, answered me somehow regarding my question earlier! That’s impossible, I thought. So many things raced through my head. Who picked up my phone? I’ve been home alone! Who created this? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t even use those emojis now since I’ve been in recovery over 18 months. My mom passed away 5 years ago, so I wouldn’t have a reason to create an event with her name. I remembered my silent request from earlier, but that just seemed crazy, even to me with all the messages I’ve received from those close to me. Could he have really answered me? I took a screenshot to prove to myself (and anyone else) I wasn’t imagining this. I asked my husband and daughter when they returned home, but they hadn’t touched my phone. I showed my husband the message, and we both decide to simply deliver it regardless of how crazy it seemed.

We went over to the Browns’ house a few days later to give our condolences and brought what Scott suggested – wine and beer! We didn’t know if the Browns drank, if they were recovering alcoholics, etc. We were taking a risk, but we hoped it would turn out well. While at the store, I asked Scott to guide me to whatever he thought they would like. We brought her a bottle of Argentinian Malbec wine and a 6-pack of a local microbrew beer.

I broke down a bit when I explained what happened and why we brought alcohol as a condolence gift. I showed her the message on my phone. She laughed a bit, then her voice cracked as she held back her tears and said she had been waiting for a message from him. While they weren’t big drinkers, Scott was. The message was definitely him because he loved to drink and “that’s just something he would text me.” (Whew!) We hugged, cried, and chatted for a while about life and death.

After we left, she called me a few minutes later to excitedly add that the specific type of wine I bought was the only type of wine she would drink (the few times she did) due to the low tannins (and Scott knew it).

I love it!