Signs

I want to share a story with you today. I don’t know how you all feel about signs from your children, but I must admit I have always been a bit skeptical about them. I do believe our spirits live on when we leave this earth but have never had any experience with signs from a loved one. Then Michael died (it’s funny, it’s still hard to say those words). 

My son was 41 years old. He loved tattoos, his people and UGA football. He also liked his weed on occasion. Being mom, I wasn’t fond of that one, but he was grown so I didn’t complain; too much. He lived in our basement apartment, and we made it clear that there would be no weed smoking in his apartment. I hate the smell. I would always tell him he smelled bad if he had had some.  

A couple of months after his death, I was in the kitchen early one morning making coffee. As I stood there, the weight of my grief was pressing down on me, and the tears were flowing. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the smell of weed. The pungent, earthy aroma of weed filled the air and was so strong, as if Michael himself had just walked in the room. Clearly there was no one here smoking it but there it was. I’m sure that was my son with his quirky sense of humor letting me know he was here. Telling me he loved me and that we would get through this. 

Today has been a difficult day, just profoundly sad and tearful. Since Mike’s death, I thrive on routine. Every Saturday morning at the same time, my husband and I do our weekly grocery shopping. On the way home John and I both looked at each other and said, “you smell that?” Weed! Both of us were smelling it, in my car. When I wrote to Mike this morning, I told him that I really needed to feel him today. Well, there he was. In my car, watching over me and a feeling of peace came over me. 

It’s hard to explain the comfort these moments bring, the way they pierce the veil between loss and connection, sadness and reassurance. As much as I miss Mike, these experiences remind me of his quirky nature and his love for us, unbroken and ever-present. They feel like whispers from the other side, a reminder that love transcends even the greatest of separations. 

I hope you will get these moments of connection with your child somewhere along your journey. Walking along with you in love and support. 

Lynn