Late yesterday afternoon, I finally coaxed myself into doing a little cleaning. I had pretty much done nothing since Fred's passing. There lingered a strange compulsion to stop time and keep everything as it was when he was there. But it was a bright autumn day and it felt like it was time to move forward. So as I wiped this, swept that, and went about putting odds and ends in their place, I was stopped cold in the dining room as I saw the scene below.
The setting sun is prone to shine through our front door and cast an image of itself upon the floor. Always enchanting, yes, but this was spectacularly different. The way that the rays of light were streaming in and dancing in ribbons upon the floor made me wonder if this might be an angelic visitation. Maybe Fred was letting me know that his journey across the Rainbow Bridge was complete and that he's not only okay but happy. My heart felt full.
About an hour later, with cleaning complete, I set about smudging with dried sage. I wanted the blessed smoke to dissolve and dissipate any lingering heaviness and sadness from all of those weeks of worrisome care-giving and vigil-holding. When all was said and done, this was how the light appeared.
Just as we see faces in random patterns and animal shapes in the clouds, I know that the light can play tricks on the eye and appear to be something it's not. But if there was any doubt an hour or so before, this sight sealed the deal. There are angels among us. Not always in the form that we may anticipate, but they show themselves in unique ways when we need them most. Maybe through something that a loved one says. Maybe through a song we hear on the radio as we drive to work. And maybe, just maybe, in the way that the light of the sun streams through a leaded glass window on an October day as we pick up the pieces after saying goodbye to a beloved friend.
And for this I am so grateful ...