Slices of Life
Signs and the things we can’t see
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One of the most bittersweet moments in life is when you have good news and no one to call.
I have lots of people to call about lots of things. But certain pieces of good news, require certain people.
And, for me, those people are no longer here.
I can talk to them. I can tell them my news, but I can’t call them on the phone because they no longer require physical entities like phones, or bodies.
Today was one of those days.
I had some good news. But it was a certain sort of good news. Not the kind you share with just anyone.
It was the kind you share with your mom, or your husband.
Neither was available for conversation, unfortunately.
So I contemplated my favorable situation and wished they were here to share my excitement.
And then I smelled cigarette smoke. (My mom was a smoker.) I whispered, “Hi, mom.”
All day long birds kept flying in weird patterns above my head and in front of me - uncannily close. I smiled and acknowledged my husband, “I see what you’re doing.”
And I took both for what they were: signs.
Some of you reading this may not believe in signs. I lived much of my life not knowing for sure, but certainly not being on the receiving end of them.
And then, here I am.
Watching birds do weird things. Smelling cigarette smoke when no one’s been smoking around me.
If you don’t believe, if you haven’t cause to believe, consider yourself fortunate.
I only know what I know. Believe what I believe (unapologetically).
I also, consider myself fortunate. Maybe even more so than many others. Here’s why:
I have been put into a place in this life where I have to believe - to have faith - in things I can’t necessarily see.
And faith is a wondrous thing.
It provides peace amongst discord. It provides love amongst hate. It provides light amongst darkness. It provides joy amongst sadness. It provides healing amongst hurt. It provides trust amongst uncertainty. It provides hope amongst despair.
It provides a platform bigger than oneself. It provides a knowledge that none of us is in this alone.
Because we aren’t. And that is a beautiful thought.
We all feel alone sometimes. I know I do and I have great faith that I am not alone. Still, despite that faith, sometimes aloneness creeps in and I feel separated from the world. Most often this occurs when I am struggling or when I have something especially good to share (and no one to share it with).
Like today.
And then the birds put on a show for me. And I smell cigarette smoke.
And I know - I believe - without a doubt that there are things we don’t see with our eyes that nonetheless are as real as everything we do see.
For me, that is faith.
And I am very, very glad and grateful for it - and for the love that’s helped me know it.
Jill Pertler is an award-winning syndicated columnist, published playwright and author. Don’t miss a slice; follow the Slices of Life page on Facebook.
