The White Butterfly

I was a mess without Gregger. Some days were so damn tough. It should have been easier. It wasn’t. He was my fixer. My comfort. My hand holder. And he wasn’t here. So I looked to the sky. The stars. The clouds. Anything. A sign. Give me something. And one day he did. Right in my backyard. A beautiful white butterfly.  Just for a second. I didn’t think much about it. But then it came back. Day after day. After day. It would flutter in. Stop for a moment. Flutter away. Always managed to catch my eye. Wherever I was. The kitchen. Family room. Outside. I’d approach it. Try to capture a picture. Never. Gone in a flash. But I knew. This was not random. Coincidence. Accidental. It was real. A sign. My first. Just when I needed it most.

My butterfly. Still comes. On days I’m feeling sad. Empty. Or just needing a little comfort. It came several days ago. Hadn’t been by for a while. But it knew. There it was. I just stood at my patio door. Staring. Tears filling my eyes. Threatening to spill over. It fluttered in the bushes. Stayed a few extra seconds. And then off it went. But those seconds melted my heart. Gave me peace. Joy. The butterfly is a symbol of transformation. Rebirth. Growth. Joy. But, most of all, the white butterfly symbolizes the soul of a departed loved one. Gregger. Reminding me he was ok. I’d be ok. We’d be ok. He was here. Telling me everything would be okay. He was watching over us. Crazy? I think not. Coincidence? Couldn’t be. My butterfly showed up during the toughest of times. I’d catch a glint in the corner of my eye. Run out to see it. It would hover over the same bush and be gone. Every time. I’d see white butterflies other places. I’d smile. But this one was special. This was MY butterfly. The sign of “new beginnings.” In so many ways. It still comes. Not quite as often. But often enough. To let me know we’ll all be okay. Thank you Gregger.