Pennies from Heaven

As you release this butterfly in honor of me,
know that I’m with you and will always be.
Hold a hand, say a prayer,
close your eyes and see me there.

 Jill Hanley

It was a crisp Sunday morning in early September when I woke up to the sounds of my own gentle sobs. The digital clock on the side table read 6:54 AM, just minutes before the alarm would ring for me to get my family ready for church. Puzzled by my emotional state, I searched to find the cause of my tears but found nothing to explain my distress. It would be several hours before we received the devastating news that my father had suffered a massive heart attack that morning and had passed away.

My family recently moved to Denver from New York where my parents still reside. On the plane ride back to the city, I thought of the many ways my father and I were alike. We both navigated traffic like cab drivers, and we were both easy-going but stubborn when provoked. We played handball together, and cooking and gardening were some of our shared interests. And oh, how many times have I heard throughout my life that I was just like my father?  It was a badge I wore with honor.

Weeks later, while filing necessary paperwork for the family estate, I studied the autopsy report and noted his time of death: 8:54 AM Eastern Standard Time. Denver is on Mountain Time which is two hours earlier. In fact, the moment I woke up crying was the exact time my beloved father left this earth. That realization gave me pause, and I decided it was a heavenly coincidence.

Over the years, friends and acquaintances have told stories of encounters with departed loved ones. A college friend shared that after her dad’s unexpected death, her mom had no idea how to run their apartment building’s systems. Although she searched, no directions were left.  Upon rechecking, her mom found complete instructions in her husband’s handwriting for every major system of the building, where just a day ago, there had been none. It was their sign that he was looking out for them.

Just days before our friends were coming to visit us, their college-aged daughter, Tara, was killed in a tragic car accident. Several years later, when they finally came to Denver, they told us with confidence that Tara was indeed with them.  How did they know?  What were the signs? There were pennies scattered all over their airline seats, not one, but many. And there were even more pennies at the door to their room at The Broadmoor, and their hotel suite was located on Tara Lane. Another friend described an encounter with her sweet father, whose presence she felt behind her and whose hand she knew was resting on her shoulder. Facing a momentous decision, she was certain her father was there to assure and comfort her. Still another friend told of a hummingbird, her beloved mom’s favorite bird, that settled near her just long enough for her to feel her mother’s comforting presence.

A Pew Research Center survey found that 53% of U.S. adults have been visited by a deceased family member in a dream or some other form. Women are more likely than men to report these experiences, and those with a moderate religious commitment are more likely to have such encounters. Reports of visits are widespread and vary across cultural and religious backgrounds.

According to the research, there are common signs as evidence of visits from deceased loved ones. Communication may be made through a familiar scent or a vivid dream.  Some feel their presence, while others might hear their voice. Sometimes an object may be out of place, or they may experience a feeling of being touched. Signs from nature are often used as a conduit to our loved ones, but there are also instances of electrical disturbances, songs and music, or unusual animal behavior. Pennies and feathers are also associated with the afterlife.

It was in early spring, a year after my dad’s passing, that I stood in my garden, surveying what had survived the winter, making a mental note of what stays and what goes on. I held a small paper bag in my right hand filled with seeds harvested from last season’s zinnias and marigolds. It was a ritual my dad and I performed every year. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment I sensed him, but suddenly I felt his essence and recognized the slightly musky scent of his being. Overwhelmed with emotion, I sat in the nearby glider so I could bask in his presence. I struggled to make sense of the fact that he was here in my little garden in Denver to oversee our spring planting ritual.  I had the presence of mind to say hello to him, because he was right beside me, I am sure. It brought me peace and comfort that I still relive to this very day.

There is great solace in the belief that our loved ones watch over us and even guide us from the spiritual realm. A friend confided to me that while many pray to Jesus or the saints in times of need, she prays to her deceased mother for guidance. They may send subtle signs, such as feelings of comfort, dreams, or meaningful coincidences, reminding us that they are still connected to us. While their physical presence is no longer here, their spirit may continue to offer love and support.

Have you experienced a visit from a loved one after they have left this world?  Would you share the circumstances and how you reacted to them?

Bit by bit, that’s all she wrote…