Signs. I believe in signs. I don't mean the obvious ones. Those are a given. Do Not Enter. One Way. Open, come in!
I mean intuitive signs. The ones not everyone sees. The ones that bring a chill up your spine. Or bring a sudden tear to your eyes. Those kinds of signs. I am always grateful when one of those signs makes an appearance. They remind me of a loved one. Or validate life choices. Or awaken a memory.
I was fortunate to receive a double sign last night. As I was driving on the highway back home from an absolutely wonderful rehearsal with Aoife and Becky, I had my phone plugged in for music. A little Kenny Barron. Stan Getz. Crosby. It was on shuffle.
Then, one of my original songs came on. Bound To You Heart. This was my sister Jeanne's favorite. I sang it at her memorial. As it played, thoughts of her filled my mind, my heart. Then it played again. Even though it was set to shuffle. I felt that spine tingle. Got teary. Smiled.
Then it played. Again. Her presence just washed over me.
As it ended, I wondered. Will it just keep playing?
No. The next song began. I heard the opening chords and my lovely niece Tanya's voice. It was Terri's song. The Hymn for Terri I wrote just before she died. Full fledged goosebumps.
And then I was home.
And grateful for that sign from mother and daughter, sister and niece.
A message from angels.
I mean intuitive signs. The ones not everyone sees. The ones that bring a chill up your spine. Or bring a sudden tear to your eyes. Those kinds of signs. I am always grateful when one of those signs makes an appearance. They remind me of a loved one. Or validate life choices. Or awaken a memory.
I was fortunate to receive a double sign last night. As I was driving on the highway back home from an absolutely wonderful rehearsal with Aoife and Becky, I had my phone plugged in for music. A little Kenny Barron. Stan Getz. Crosby. It was on shuffle.
Then, one of my original songs came on. Bound To You Heart. This was my sister Jeanne's favorite. I sang it at her memorial. As it played, thoughts of her filled my mind, my heart. Then it played again. Even though it was set to shuffle. I felt that spine tingle. Got teary. Smiled.
Then it played. Again. Her presence just washed over me.
As it ended, I wondered. Will it just keep playing?
No. The next song began. I heard the opening chords and my lovely niece Tanya's voice. It was Terri's song. The Hymn for Terri I wrote just before she died. Full fledged goosebumps.
And then I was home.
And grateful for that sign from mother and daughter, sister and niece.
A message from angels.