It all started with 444. For
some reason, I kept seeing it. Everywhere.
On clocks. Prices. Mileage.
Exit numbers. For years.
I decided to research what it meant. Psychics say that angels, spirits
of those we loved and who loved us, attempt to guide us through our thoughts,
feelings, words, visions, and with physical signs ~ tangible things we see or
hear over and over.
One of the physical manifestations of this is recurring number
patterns. Our spirit guides are calling
our attention to something ~ giving us a cosmic ‘heads up’. They’re called Angel Numbers, a means for the
spirits of our loved ones to communicate with us by physically placing things
with the number sequence in front of us and by subtly whispering for us to look
up in time to see that particular clock, car, billboard or sign. The spirit guides hope that we will become
aware of the repeating numbers and research what the messages mean.
According to psychics, 4 is an angel number, symbolic of the four
seasons, four cardinal directions, and four elements of earth, wind, fire and
water. Recurring 444 is an indication that you are being surrounded by angels
who love and support you, and their help is close at hand. They say that the lost loved one who came to
mind first when you saw the sequence was the person who was trying to connect
with you. It was always my Grama Alice.
Last June, the kids and I made a road trip to California to see my
brother’s and sister’s families. One
stop we made was to Westminster Cemetery to put flowers on Grama Alice, Grampa
Reg, and Donald Jacob’s graves. And,
although I’d become quite accustomed to seeing the sequence and had The 444
came on with force. The Chili-Cheese
Dogs we took with us to picnic with (that’s another post) were 5 for
$4.44. Gas was $4.44 per gallon. When we got in the car after we’d found all
three loved ones, it was 4:44. I
believed that Grama, Grampa, and my oldest brother were telling us they knew we
had visited and expressing their gratitude for being remembered and honored.
And then the dragonflies arrived.
I had always told my kids that, when I died, I would come back to them
as a dragonfly. Anytime they saw one,
they would know that I was there with them.
For Christmas last year, Sarah bought us matching dragonfly
bracelets. She wrote me the greatest
letter, and told me, You Will Always be My Dragonfly. (That’s another post.)
In mid-July, my nephew died. It
was tragic and traumatic, an unintentional suicide. I was absolutely devastated. Honestly, I didn’t really understand
why. Chris and I hardly knew each
other. He was married to Dave’s niece,
Elisabeth. We’d seen each other over the
years (they’d been married maybe 5 or 6) at weddings, Christmas or birthday
parties, and when out-of-town family members came for a visit. But, for some reason, his death knocked the
wind out of me. I curled into a
proverbial ball and was completely distraught.
We found out on a Sunday morning.
Unfortunately, his death occurred in a very public place and was the
stuff of sensational news. There was no
escaping it, and I was consumed with the need to find out what happened to
him.
I changed my profile picture and cover photo
and posted, “For the most part, I want to be a dragonfly.”
A few days after Chris died, we were invited to a memorial show at Mod
a-go-go, a downtown art gallery where Chris displayed his work. I sent the gallery owners a message
indicating that we would be there and hoped to take home some of his work. They said they would set some pieces aside for
me to choose from, including something from Chris’ latest collection, stage
scenes. Since we were in the process of
finishing our theater, I told them I would definitely want one of those. When we arrived at the show, a lovely,
well-attended event at a delightful, eclectic gallery nouveau, and made our
selections from the display – a beach scene, a stage set, and a crammed subway
car. I was disheartened to learn that
they had all sold but, when I let the owner know who I was he said, “Oh! We have some downstairs for you!” Of course, they were two beach scenes, a
stage set, and a crammed subway car – exactly what we’d picked from
upstairs. We bought them all. What we didn’t know, but was explained to us,
is that Chris himself appeared in both of the beach scenes, walking away from
the camera. Not only did we get pictures
from his collection, we got pictures of him.
The funeral was the next day. I
wore a dragonfly pin that I got for Christmas for the first time. It was highlighted nicely on my plain black
dress. There were dragonflies flying
around everywhere, which was weird, because we were nowhere near water.
I attributed them to Chris. He
knew. He was aware of our love, aware of
our gathering, and giving his approval. He was healthy, happy, and in the arms
of those who had gone before him. He
will be there to greet us.
Within a few days I had found the perfect hanging spots and purchased
the perfect frames for the artwork we bought.
I set about putting all of the prints into the frames and noticed in the
stage scene – the one I was adamant about getting – two dragonflies.
The week before I got The Call (that’s another post), I was in a
complete panic about my brother’s well-being, and could not take my hands off
my dragonfly charm on the bracelet that Sarah gave me. During his memorial, I
wore the same pin. The next morning, we
attended his daughter’s soccer game, and were joined by two very active and
very close-flying dragonflies. After
returning to the home of Greg’s in-laws, I saw a metal dragonfly attached to
their porch swing.
He knew. He was aware of our
love, aware of our gathering, and giving his approval. He was healthy, happy,
and in the arms of those who had gone before him. He will be there to greet us.
Here’s to my dragonflies.