Yesterday morning mom sent me the following text, “There’s a
fawn in my front yard.” We were all
thinking of the fact that it was the one-year anniversary of dad’s death. My response was, “If that’s not a sign, then
I don’t know what is.” Mom replied, “I
think it was a sign that he is ok. My
granny always believed in signs.” And
that made me think back to late winter of this year when we were prepping the
backyard for the retaining wall and I found an old Miller High Life can full of
target practice holes. I looked down at
the can in disbelief and said out loud, “Oh, wow. That’s totally dad’s brand…and look, it’s a
pull-top from the 70s!” I took it as a
sign that dad approved of our building plans.
So, I’m going to believe that dad sent us signs, both in
forms that spoke of his personality and humor, and both in forms that the
receivers would understand. To mom he
sent a fawn. To me he sent an old Miller
High Life can.
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