Saturday Morning

Good morning to one and all. It's a beautiful blue-sky day in our fair state, and one of the best advertisements for living in New England. Nothing much on my radar screen for today, at least in terms of work or errands. However, I am feeling some change in the air, which is probably a good omen for the future.

Of course, there's been change on my job front, which I've documented ad nauseum here. But, like always, that change isn't necessarily all bad because it has opened some unexpected doors. This week I had several interactions with different women in the corporation where I work, and the results have been heart-warming and affirmative.

Part of my job is to train colleagues to build their department websites for the company's intranet. This week, I met with a woman named Pam, to help her build a site. We were working together in her office, which had several photographs on the wall, and I mentioned how much her son had grown. Knowing that 15-year-old Michael is the light of her life, I figured that the discussion would also lead to her daughter, who died suddenly of a still-unknown disease about five years ago. The daughter's picture also was pinned to the wall, but it's starting to age and yellow a little bit. We laughed about how she herself never ages and will always remain 22 years old.

Pam then told me a great story about her daughter and butterflies. Ever since her daughter's death, she has found butterflies in unusual places - flying around her house, sitting on her car, all kinds of unexpected places. She firmly believes this is her daughter's way of comforting her...letting her Mom know she's ok. We both teared up a bit, but we were connecting in such a human way that I took great comfort from it.

Pam's story resonated with me because I have had similar experiences with my deceased parents. A few years ago, my husband faced significant medical issues that, at the time, seemed insurmountable. One day, I simply put his future in the hands of my parents, asking them to please help me. I was sitting in my office at the time and looked out into the blue sky as I made this request. Just as I did so, two large birds flew by, in tandem. Although my parents disagreed on much during their lives on earth, I took solace that the two of them were letting me know they would do what they could.

The result? This week it will be two years since my husband's major surgery. He's probably in better health now than he was before the medical problem occurred. While he's worked hard to get himself healthy, perhaps there are other reasons that cannot be so easily quantified. And that's the secret, and beauty, of being human.