At 62…Messages from Michael

Today is my husband’s birthday. Were he still here on earth, we would celebrate his 66th birthday with a homemade Coca-Cola cake with double fudge frosting. We would share presents and jokes and laughter. We would compare aches and pains and be amazed that we’d reached an age that Mike insisted on calling “elderly”, to my great irritation!

Before Mike left this world for the next, we talked a lot about signs. Signs from the other side, to be precise. He felt them all his life, as did I. He felt the presence of his mom and dad on a daily basis and talked with them often. I am blessed to regularly walk my path surrounded by my loved ones who are no longer present on earth.

Because we knew it was possible, Mike promised that he would send me signs. He wanted me to know that he was always there watching over me, only a heartbeat away. And being Michael, he stayed true to his word.

As soon as Mike passed, I was filled with the most unutterable peace. That peace was filled with the assurance of no more physical pain, a pure bliss, and an indescribable happiness. As Mike would say, it was wonderful. I knew with certainly at that moment, he was home, and all his beliefs were indeed real.

Those first months without Mike, I asked the question endlessly – what would Mike do in this situation? The answer always came. I knew how to do so many things, even though I really hadn’t a clue. I felt Mike was there, guiding my hands and giving me knowledge. And by golly, I conquered each new task with his help.

I’ve never felt someone’s spirit via smell until Mike. That first summer, I walked through a cloud of his fragrance almost every day. His cologne. His sweat. Traces of smoke. The scent of his lotion and shampoo. It was unsettling the first time it happened, then I began to welcome it. It continues still today. Not as often, but the scents are definitely as strong. They are like brief, fragrant hugs.

On one of our first exploring trips here in the Ozarks, Mike and I were poking around the Buffalo River, finding new swimming holes. He ducked down in the water, grabbed something off the bottom, and presented me with a perfect heart-shaped rock. Over these last three and a half years, many more hearts were placed in my path. Rocks. Leaves. Clouds. Water droplets. A slice of cucumber in my salad. I never know when one will show up, and they are such lovely surprises when they do.

As Mike asked me to, I’ve worn our two gold nugget necklaces together every day since he died, with nary a tangled chain. In the past two months, they have woven around and through and back on themselves in intricate patterns that take quite a while to gently unwrap. I never notice it until I look down, and they have knotted themselves together, clinging to each other until I separate them once again.

Are these things real? Are they just my wishful imagination? Cabinet doors swing open of their own accord, with no one nearby. We had a lamp that we both loved, and it turns off and on all by itself. Others have observed these things, too. Once they get over the slight shock, they just laugh and tell Mike they miss him. Michael was such a sheer force of nature in life, it seems perfectly natural that he would continue to be so in spirit form.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that Mike continues to reach out to me. He is letting me know he’s at peace, watching over me, trying to keep me safe. He told me just before he passed that he found me once. He would find me again, and we would be together forever. I believed him then, and I believe him now.

And in the meantime, I pray that Michael will continue to send me messages…at 62 and beyond.