A most unusual event I need to share. Yesterday, in the quiet of the morning, at the time just between dark and light, an radiant event transpired in my back yard. I’ll tell you about it now.
For the last few days, I’ve been a little under the weather wishing things could’ve turned out differently. As a widow, we all have those days in which we aren’t 100%. I’m no different. I’d watched a Netflix Show called Surviving Death, about signs that our loved-ones are near. I didn’t start with Episode 1, as I normally would’ve, but decided Episode 4 might be interesting. With no for reason for choosing that episode, I started watching.
My attention was immediately captured as the first story shared was about butterflies and the importance they had in one person’s grieving experience. I had a very similar experience with butterflies when VST’s mom passed away. While caring for her in her final days, I’d asked her how I’d know if she was near. Responding immediately, she whispered, “Butterflies”. That was her answer. Just “Butterflies”. After she died, every day, for almost two years, butterflies flew in and out of my life. In many forms. In many ways. From Monarch butterflies flying mid day at a busy intersection in the 113 degree heat of the Central Valley, to a story on the radio about a butterfly smuggling ring in Russia. Every day, there was a unique way in which butterflies were interjected into my life. I came to accept and love the signs that she was watching over me as I healed through my grief.
With VST, there’ve been no butterflies fluttering by. No strange cloud formations. No dreams or messages. Nothing. Just nothing. While watching the show I wished that, just once, I’d experience a sign that he was happy and at peace. But nothing came.
Blogging, I prefer to sit in my studio at my desktop computer. I have a nice office chair that supports my back. Oliver has his bed right near my feet. Comfy and cozy, I’m surrounded by things reflecting my life. It is unusual for me to blog in the living room, as I find too many distractions.
But on this day, I sat quietly on the couch blogging on my iPad. Usually the curtains would be closed because it’s dark when I blog. On this day, I’d opened them when I got up. Through the sliding glass door, I view the back yard. As I was blogging, something outside caught my attention, and looking up, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
In the back yard of Winterpast (the name for my home), there stands a Russian Olive Tree. In the high desert where I live, this is considered by some to be a junk tree. My magnificent tree grew up from a volunteer, majestic and beautiful. The back fence neighbor hates the tree and wants me to cut it down. Not going to happen. I love my junk tree and have since the day I met her. She’s a windblown transplant like me, thriving in the desert.
Yesterday, in that time of morning between dark and light, this dormant, leaf-less tree glowed. The darkened winter sky set a beautiful backdrop for the tree, which gleamed in splendor for a good ten minutes. I quickly got my phone and took pictures. It was a burning bush moment that I was lucky enough to witness and photograph.
In that moment in time, with Winterpast’s tree ablaze in light, I knew in my heart, VST was speaking to me, loud and clear. Heaven is a beautiful place. He is surrounded by all our loved ones while waiting for me. The peace and beauty surrounding the moment of splendor filled my heart with so many emotions. It was an awe-inspiring message that some would explain away by the angle of the winter sun. That’s a fine explanation, unless you feel differently, as I do from this experience.
Something made me change my blogging location, while typing on my ipad instead of my desktop. Something changed my routine to open the curtain while darkness eliminated any view. Something got my attention while I was intently focused on my writing. Something made my heart skip a beat and insist on pictures. Something different and wonderful.
As the tree glowed, the air around it seemed to glow as well. Golden-yellow-shimmery-iridescent magnificence right out my back window. The other trees were not glowing. Just my beautiful Russian Olive. I smiled. VST picked the right way to let me know things are brilliant in his world. My heart felt his happiness for my happiness. A sign I won’t soon forget, that came on a average morning, on an average day, while I sat blogging in that time of day between dark and light in the high desert.
