A couple days ago
I had a conversation about a terrible single car accident in which a young girl
died but the other passengers (her parents) in the car lived. I was, and still am, struggling to accept the
randomness of life and our inability to control any of it. The story has stuck with me of the sadness of
losing a young girl to something so random, and now how terribly hurt her
parents must be by the loss. Randomness
, like a baby dying only days before she was scheduled to come out, and a
teenager dying so suddenly a day before her birthday are things that I just can’t
wrap my head around.
Yesterday, in
honor of my Gabbie, I recreated a bracelet, that my sister had given me when I
was still in the hospital, to reflect the memory of my baby. I changed the beads of the bracelet to soft
pink, opalescent crystals, silver, crystal butterflies and her charm instead of
the deep silver that they had been. My
sister, the one who gave me the bracelet has always believed that our
grandfather showed himself to her in the form of butterflies. I thought what harm could it do, maybe gramps
is watching out for her.
Today, my husband
and I received a small painting in the mail accompanied by a letter. The painting was that of an angel and
butterflies. The letter mentioned that
very accident that I’ve often thought of. She mentioned, too, that a medium had told
friends of the family that the girl didn’t suffer but was taken to heaven by
angels who surrounded her like butterflies.
The medium also claimed that the girl was given the job in heaven of
helping young children to cross over.
There is no way
the friend could have been privy to any of this. She could not have known about my
conversation regarding the accident. Nor
could she have known about the butterflies.
Yet here is this letter and painting referencing both.
Is it possible? Might these be coincidences? Am I reaching? Or is Gabbie reaching out to me? I so miss that tiny face. My stepfather and mother gave me an angel
necklace, because she is my angel. My father
and step mother sent me a teardrop necklace to remind me that there are no
tears in heaven. I wear both hoping they
are true. I have cried so many tears
down here, without her. I just wish… I
miss holding her and watching her sleep.
I miss cupping her tiny head with my hand to feel her fuzzy hair; she
had so much hair. I just wish I could
have heard her cry, watched her chest rise and fall. I wish I could have seen her eyes. I said in my last blog that I have stopped
asking why and “The answerless question has been replaced by a collection of
butterflies that have taken up residence in my stomach.” Now I realize how heart wrenching this quote
is if she’d been trying to show me she’s been there the whole time.
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