When I Need It

'It' always shows up...

And of course, by ‘it’ I mean a connection. I mean a wink, a nudge, an invisible hug, an inside joke. In a bigger sense, I mean a reminder of our relationship and a mystical knowing that our connection remains intact.

I am not one to routinely ‘call upon’ for favors or special treatment those I love who have passed away. (OK, with one exception: I do call upon my mother to help me find good parking spots. She was always great at it before she died, and she excels at it in spirit as well.)

Over the past several weeks I’ve noticed what I sensed was a slight uptick in license plate messages and the like. I’m always looking at license plates, billboards, phone numbers, bumper stickers, cloud configurations (of course), songs that play on my iPod or the radio, the animals that cross my path – anything that could be a means of communication, symbolism, or metaphor.

And yet, in spite of everything, I also tend to just observe and try not to read too much into these circumstances that cross my path. Basically, I see them, note them in my heart, send a smile, and tuck them away.

A day or so ago, though, if you’d asked me, I might have admitted that things were starting to feel a bit sketchy. (Might have.) (If you caught me at a vulnerable moment.) I’m deliberately using equivocal language because I’m barely giving myself the option to admit that I might be feeling a little strained.

The bump in the road that I’m navigating is nothing compared to the trials, tribulations (and heartache!) so many other people are confronting – including the person most directly affected.

And so, it’s interesting that the very first night I got home from dealing with ‘stuff,’ a month ago, I walked into our house – and a wren was flying around in our living room.

You telling our secrets?

A wren. And it went into our kitchen and knocked one of the colorful antique glass bottles off the windowsill. Luckily, the bottle didn’t break and the wren seemed to decide its shenanigans were enough, and it immediately exited out the kitchen door, which I’d just propped open.

This was significant to me because shortly after our son Karl died, a wren visited me in our house in exactly the same way. This was a first for me; I’d actually never paid attention to looking at a wren up close and personal before that moment. That’s when I discovered wrens are associated with drowning – which confirmed for me that this little bird was a messenger sent by my son to check on me.

It was thus not lost on me that a wren showed up again to check on me - just shy of a month ago – and once it had snagged my attention, willingly exited our home.

Since the Wren Visit, I’ve seen little nuggets from my son every single day. For instance, just today, I say a license plate with two out of three of his initials – followed by his birthdate.

These instances of connection have been happening so frequently, in fact, that I worry about becoming cavalier over his efforts to assure me he’s ‘there.’

And so, the other day, as I rushed to get where I was going, I was gobsmacked when I saw the license plate on the car beside me in the parking lot:

IYKYK

OK, Karl. I can’t deny that one. Well done! Thank you for making the effort. I definitely feel loved. And supported.

And the thing is, I feel like I’m supposed to write about this tonight because I’m getting the sense that each one of you reading this needs to stop, get quiet, and commit to yourself to pay attention to the details of your life. It’s very likely someone (or more than one) is trying to connect with you and assure you that you are not alone. That you are seen. And you are loved.

Now more than ever, we need this connection. They know it and we know it. The difference is, they’re adamant - and persistent.