I Swear You Will Be Fine

I am so reliant on the signs I receive and identify. It’s almost as if receiving a sign makes or breaks my day. If I start the day with unexpected purple and yellow flowers by the bus stop, my mood is automatically lifted, and I know you’re still here. Signs are especially helpful on really bad days. On those days, something else in life has decided to mess with me, and I feel the weight of your absence a hundred times more. I start to think about how different things would be if you were here, and that sends me into a spiral of despair. On those extra hard days, I’d look even harder for signs to show me that you’re still taking care of me the way you would have on Earth.

Recently, I finished my exams for the first time without you. Normally, we’d have discussed our answers after the paper, which always reassured me that I’d done well. Because we couldn’t do that this time, I was quite worried that I might not have done as well as I would have with you. A few months ago, I told you that I’d look for signs in numbers (like a series of four identical numbers – 1111, 2222, et cetera) and a few other things that were uniquely ours. After the first exam, I asked for a sign that I did alright and that you were with me during the paper. All the way home and even after dinner, I felt like I hadn’t received any signs from you. I had looked at cars for the numbers, but all I got were 7717 and 88… close, but not exactly what we had discussed. The sky was a little pinkish, but not quite purple. As I was standing outside my house and looking at the sky, I thought, “I haven’t gotten my sign yet, Josh. Did I not do well…” and my eyes focused on the tree right in front of me… sprouting yellow flowers. I quickly looked around to see if any of the other trees down the street had yellow flowers, but it seemed they were unique to the tree in front of me! This tree has been outside my house for years, but it has only sprouted yellow flowers a handful of times in the past decade. I took those yellow flowers as my sign and felt reassured that you would be with me, come what may.

After my second exam a few days later, I did the same thing. This time, I asked you for signs before the paper had even started. The night before, I was talking to you and asked for help with this paper, and for signs afterward to let me know I was doing alright. This exam worried me a little because it was Statistics, your expertise, and I would usually have been bombarding you with questions in the days leading up to the exam. I studied extra hard for this paper because I wanted to make you proud and managed to finish a few minutes before time was up. As the invigilators collected the papers, I looked up at the exam clock, which displayed seconds too. And, the time was 11:11:11. The exam had officially ended at 11:10 a.m., so I thought that the odds of me looking up at the clock exactly when it turned 11:11:11 was quite unbelievable – so I took that as a sign from you. I instantly felt relieved and so grateful for the signs you continue to send. Even on the way home, a car drove by me with the number 9999, and after I had bought lunch, I looked to my left and a car was parked with the number 1111. If I had chosen to take another route home, which I was considering, and if I had decided to order lunch in instead of buying it on the way back, I would not have seen the numbers 9999 and 1111.

I know it might sound delusional to count on what could be coincidences, but a large part of me believes that there have been far too many for it all to be up to chance. More importantly, I think I need these signs to keep going. I need to believe that you are still here with us in your own way, just like I need to believe that you are in Heaven even though I was not raised religious. If you were here, you’d probably laugh at my beliefs and explain the science behind all of it… but grief makes us do funny things, doesn’t it?

Wherever you are, I know you’re looking down at us and still watching out for us in little and big ways. I hope we are making you proud, Josh… it really isn’t easy being here. I can’t wait to see you again. I love you more, always, and forever.

Love always,
Sha