Today is my Mother’s 85th birthday. It has been nearly two years since she passed away, and nearly every day I still think: I’ve got to call Mom and tell her whatever it is that has happened of significance (and often insignificance) in my life. I hope you will indulge me if I repost what I wrote last year. I had forgotten, and needless to say, remembering this remarkable story of Tim’s feather brought me a sweet, warm joy.
I miss you, Mom. Happy birthday.
You’ve got to see this he said and I knew it was something big. I was already in bed, you see, and the lights were out. Still, I got up and followed my husband to our home office.
Look he said, and pointed to the top of his desk. Look at that.
A little white feather was lying there perfectly positioned in front of his computer, this husband of mine who (thankfully) smiles and hugs me with every feather event. I’m not quite sure Tim believes, as I do, that the feathers are miraculous messages from God, little reminders of love. (Reminders, I should tell you, that began appearing as we all faced such overwhelming and unexpected challenges with Mom’s declining health.) I adore my husband even more, yes I do, for humoring me in my great belief in the divinity of the feathers.
So you can see how it would be worthy of note that at this moment we stood there, both of us, looking at a nearly impossible and certainly improbable feather, one clearly meant for him. And still I didn’t understand the magnitude of the message.
We had been standing together in the bathroom 30 minutes earlier, me washing my face, him brushing his teeth.
How’d you like the music today? I asked him, referring to the Christmas program our choir had presented to the Providence Presbyterian congregation during worship that morning.
It was great he said (with genuine enthusiasm). I looked at you singing and thought: I wonder if Posey is proud of her little girl?
Hum I said. I know Mom is proud for many reasons. But I’m not sure me singing in church is one of them.
We laughed together, both knowing just what I meant. What I didn’t know was that during our choir program that morning, my husband had uncharacteristicly lobbed a great request toward the heavenlies.
Do you see her, Posey? he had asked in church. Are you there? A simple sign will do.
And that very night a little white feather appears on his desk, there where he couldn’t possibly miss it.
Sometimes I do find it hard to believe, can I just tell you that? From time to time I wonder if the appearance of these feathers in my life is nothing more than coincidence. But then something like this happens, something that feels miraculous, something I never expected. My spirit lifts and my heart opens and my soul rejoices. And I know, once again, that the feathers are placed there in my path very specifically, each one a sweet reminder that as I journey on, I am not alone. God is always there, never failing.
And so is Mom, I now know. As always, Mom is there cheering me on.
Are there feathers in your life? Can you feel it, too? I hope so. I pray so, because you are loved and cherished, my friend. Loved and cherished.
FEATHER STORIES OF NOTE
the things that we believe in (September 7, 2011)
Feathers, Friends and Sweet Little Nudges (November 6, 2011)
coming home (May 28, 2012)
here, there, everywhere (July 25, 2012)
unforced rhythms of grace (August 29, 2012)
Miracles (December 6, 2012)
with his feathers (February 17, 2013)
30 Days of Joy
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