Look Closer

My mom’s unexpected passing last fall has been a challenging adjustment to say the least. Settling her estate, making arrangements, taking care of my kids as well as my own emotions has been overwhelming. It’s only recently that I’ve begun to decompress which has led to a deep sadness and mild depression including a feeling of loneliness and even anger some days. A recent visit to her house has helped changed my perspective…

Mom didn’t want a traditional burial. She wanted to be cremated and have her ashes sprinkled in her flowerbeds in front of her house. We joked for years about how difficult that would be emotionally but in the end, we honored her wishes and did it in a heartbreaking private ceremony with Amazing Grace playing in the background. What remains of her ashes are kept safely in a beautiful white urn, painted with pink peonies (her favorite flower) set on her bedroom dresser with a cross hanging from it and a sign that says “#1 Grandma in the World. “

Now when I return home, I always visit the urn first. Upon entering her room, I say “ Hi, Mom”. I hug “her” and kiss “her”. I tell her I have missed her and that I love her…just like I have done throughout my entire life. I do the same upon leaving.

In a recent trip home, I whispered “come see me tonight”. My sister Kate had talked about mom comforting her in dreams many times since she passed and I was jealous! Mom had “visited” me only once since her passing and in my childish mind I was now saying, “It’s my turn, Mom!”

I don’t know what I was expecting. I just made the request for her to come visit me. Would she come in a dream, as an apparition or in a form I wouldn’t recognize? As I drifted off to sleep later that night, I had forgotten about the request.

Waking in my childhood bedroom the next day is always a surreal experience. Staring at the same ceiling and four walls that watched me grow up, feeling the heat drift through the baseboard and listening for mom’s bedroom door creak open as she shuffled down the hall to make coffee always stirs up memories.

Only this time, mom’s door didn’t creak open that morning. The reality of “where” I was in life settled in slowly, sadly. As the sun began to peek through the window, it seemed to urge me to get up, and to go make the coffee for the next generation that might be “listening” for a creaky door. I slowly rolled over, rose and sat at the edge of the bed and got dressed.

As I went to make the bed I saw something. It was small, on top of the comforter, exactly where I had been laying. What was it I thought? Upon closer inspection, it was a lady bug. It was alive and moving towards me. It’s red colors and dark spots were unmistakable.

“Mom. Is that you?” I said softly. My mind racing. What now?

I leaned over and gently pressed my finger on the comforter and let “her” climb into my hand. Once on my hand, she stopped. Time was frozen. We stared at each other. Suddenly, I felt compelled to walk down the hall and awkwardly make coffee with her in my hand. As I had requested, “she” had come to see me and even helped me make the coffee one last time. Soon after she flew away. I couldn’t find her again but was at peace with her visit.

I have no way of knowing for sure, but I believe it was mom. You see, ladybugs had become symbolic in her life. In addition to the lady bug trinkets in the house, real lady bugs would always “visit” in the spring and fall. Now deep in the winter, it was rare to see a ladybug, let alone find one lying next to me unharmed during sleep. It certainly could be a coincidence with me asking her to visit me, and the lady bug appearing, but I believe it was her honoring my request to visit me.

Things in life aren’t always what they seem. What we ask for isn’t always given in the form we expect. Sometimes, we must take the time to “look closer” at what is and has happened, and realize that although it might not be what we wanted or “requested”, God is giving us exactly what we need. And just like mom and the lady bug, He is always with us…all we need to do is ask and be open to “look closer”.

As we packed up and began to leave the house, I again stopped in, hugged “her” and with a childish smirk on my face said:

“Thanks Mom. I love you. I miss you you. “See” you soon. Let’s see Kate beat that one! ?