Cigar Smoke and Butterflies

Hello, friends. I realize it’s been quite a while since you heard from me. Honestly, it’s been a longer while than I originally planned for, but that’s life, right? I realized somewhere along the way that I simply needed time to heal. Grief, depression, and anxiety are all tricky on their own, but combining them can weaken even the strongest of people. While I went on medication shortly after the deaths of my grandfather and cousin, it honestly took about two months for it to really kick in completely. Then came the holidays, with it’s own particular brand of firsts and sadness. Then Scoot’s birthday. There were a number of hurdles I had to get through to get to a better place. Yet, here I am. Back, and ready to write again.

It’s been a long, hard road since September. I think when we lose someone, it completely alters you for the rest of your life. That’s why it’s called loss, right? During grief, and its aftermath, you start to put the pieces of yourself into new arrangements. You won’t ever be the same, or even whole in the same way, but you have to go on. To live. If you’re like me, you also want reassurance that those you love are in a better place. You want a sign. In my experience, I think those that have gone on before can absolutely send you these signs. A few months after my grandmother died, I had a dream about her. She was healthy, whole, and beautiful in a way that I remembered from when I was younger. I went up, hugged her, and told her how much I loved her and missed her. In response, she pulled back, gave me her signature “duh” look, and said sassily, “I know.” It was so real. It was vivid. And to me, it was my grandmother assuring me that she knows I love her, and that she’s with me always. After that dream, I knew without question that she was okay.

I’ve had other moments like that with her. She likes to check in now and then, and it gives me comfort. It’s one of the reasons I craved signs from Brittany and my grandfather. I needed to know that they too were happy and somewhere better. With Brittany especially, it seemed I needed to know she was beyond all the troubles that bogged us down here on Earth. Without getting into too much detail, there’s been a lot of upheaval, greed, and turmoil surrounding the deaths.  Our girl is never one to disappoint, though. After her funeral, with her grave still festooned with all her flowers, my mother and cousin went to visit her. From what they tell me, a butterfly flew from the flowers, hovered near my mom’s window, flew across the windshield to my cousin’s and then went back to the flowers. From that moment on, we knew that she was visiting us as a butterfly.

The night before Scoot’s birthday party, we had another moment from her. I picked up a white frosted cake from a local bakery, and my mom and I sprayed it with purple coloring. We covered it, did some other things and then we went to Brit’s grave with a new floral arrangement for her (with a big, blue butterfly on it). My mom, cousin, and I spoke to Britt, left the flowers, and came back to my mother’s to show my cousin the cake. Lo and behold, what was on the frosting but a small, blue butterfly shape. I still get tingles thinking about it.

Scoot's cake, with butterfly. How amazing!

Scoot has also told me about butterflies that she has seen. ON the day of her school fundraiser, a butterfly hovered near her classroom window for a moment, before flying away. This week, while she was home sick, a little yellow butterfly fluttered around the house for a while as well. Now, I realize it’s spring. Butterflies are everywhere this time of year. However, there are moments that you just feel that the one you love is close by. What I’ve described above have been some of those moments.

My grandfather had been more elusive. Maybe he’s just been too happy to be back with my grandmother to check in until fairly recently. However, he too has paid visits to me. One night, during the super blood wolf too many words to name moon and eclipse, I was out with my cousin (same cousin as above) on a garden bench, freezing my tushy off watching the eclipse. Out of nowhere, I smelled pipe smoke. It’s a distinct smell, one I have vague memories of. My cousin smelled it as well. Now, we were outside, so I wrote it off to that. Until I smelled it inside my house one day as I woke from a nap. Pipe smoke. I’ve smelled it a few other times, just small, distinct whiffs. The last time was two weeks ago as we worked on cleaning out my grandparent’s house. I was hauling furniture with my mom when I smelled it, clear as day. She was right next to me, and didn’t smell it at all.

I should mention one of the last things I remember asking my grandfather for was a pipe for Scoot’s Little Mermaid birthday party last year. I knew he still had some old ones from when he used to smoke pipes and cigars. He found me one, and we used it as a snarflap for my girl’s party. That same pipe now sits on my bookshelf. Perhaps that’s why I smell pipe smoke. It’s his way of wrapping me up in his love.

Recently, I dreamed of him and Britt. I was at a class, and when I came out I couldn’t’ find my husband. I looked everywhere for him, but he was gone. My grandfather found me, and he helped me find my husband. We all three sat together inside, and after a while, he said, “there’s my baby.” I looked up, saw Brittany. And oh, my heart clenched. I missed them SO much. I said as much to him, and then I woke up.

I have no doubt that they are all together now. None at all. I know they are okay, and that they will check on me as I need them. Maybe I am just looking for signs. Maybe those signs are heaven sent. If they aren’t, I don’t want to know. I think they are. Sometimes, you just know things without proof, without reason. Perhaps you just have to be open to those signs. I know I am.