The morning began with a thick, heavy fog - a very rare sight on the Texas coast. His family and I came down Thursday night to spend the weekend at their beach house. It's one of our go-to places to get away together on the hard milestones like this one. After some coffee, we headed for breakfast. Being a photographer, I couldn't resist the desire to drive the mile down the road to the beach before eating and capture some images of the pier in the fog. Drew's mom and I made a quick trip there, and the scene was utterly surreal. I've scarcely ever seen such thick fog, especially approaching nearly 10am. I grabbed my camera and went to work. The horizon was totally gone, lost in a milky white haze that waves drifted out of. The pier disappeared right into the fog, seeming to go on forever. Surfers dissipated into an abyss of white. It was a photographer's dream. I couldn't help but think, he knew exactly how to pull me out of my sadness that morning. To give me an unreal photo op. No matter what else is happening, when I am behind a camera I go into another world entirely… present in the moment, focused, and fully alive.
After getting my shots - and giddy with excitement - I returned back to the car with his mom to head for breakfast. As we approached… we stopped in our tracks, our mouths dropped. There in front of us on the beach, right in front of the car, was a toy helicopter. And not just that, but a yellow toy helicopter that was wrecked and broken, with the rotor blades missing. Speechless. If you don't know my whole story… Drew was a pilot, and he died in a crash. In a yellow helicopter… which hit power lines… and when we viewed the wreckage the rotor blades were cut off. Whoa.
I think I'm still speechless about this one. It's weird, it's downright creepy - but then again he always had a dark sense of humor, so this is SO him. He has never been subtle about sending signs. Especially on birthdays. For my 30th birthday - the first without him - I found his name drawn three feet wide into a rock wall in the middle of nowhere in Arizona…. right after a helicopter flew by. How do you explain that? I couldn't. I decided, I know, it has to be him.
And the eerie thing was… as we looked up and around us, we noticed that the fog had started to lift suddenly. Now I know it's not possible that my dead fiancé controls the weather, logically, but still I couldn't help but feel like he'd had a hand in keeping that fog there just long enough to drag me out to the beach. He would have known more than anyone that a thick fog or big thunderstorm would have had me scrambling for my camera. And he would have known I'd go right to the beach, and right for that exact pier. Had it been a sunny morning, we'd have gone straight to breakfast... and we'd have never found that helicopter. And really… that thing could have been anywhere on the miles and miles of beach that span Padre Island. Or in a trash can. But it wasn't. It was right exactly where I would happy to be led by this mysterious fog. And exactly where his mom decided to park the car, despite a mostly empty lot. I can't believe it as anything else put purposeful.
And it turns out, that little yellow sign helped get me through the day. It felt like a hello from him. Reminded me of his sense of humor, which I miss so much, and made me feel that perhaps him and his dark humor are very much alive and well in some other way. I kept me imagining his bright, playful spirit… happy, light, joking around with us, ready for a party. I had hoped for a sign from him, but I sure didn't expect one like that.
There were two other things helped me be able to celebrate this day. One of those is the people in my life. My friends and family from far and wide texted me, called me, and made it very clear that I was not going through this day alone. They left birthday messages online to him, just as if he were still here. That's an important one - for loved ones to wish him a happy birthday like he never left us. Because they get it, he never did leave us - not entirely. For them to wrap me up in their love and support not only made me feel safe, but also touched my heart so deeply because I am also watching them continue to take care of the most important person in his world for him. I know in some way, they are bringing him joy and comfort, which does the same for me.
The other thing that helped a lot was making something to honor him. I decided the best way to do that would be to get his family to help me create a special birthday message to him. We went out to the beach after dark and had a bonfire and a few beers in his honor. After a while, I got my camera out, and - using hot coals from the fire - we each took turns writing out part of a birthday message to him in the air. This morning, I compiled them all together in the computer into this:
I had thought of the idea to do it the day before… and I really gotta say, just knowing that I had some kind of plan for a way to honor him helped me a lot. It gave me something to look forward to on a very very hard day. I just kept clinging to that. I think having even some small kind of plans for days like these really help. I also warned my closest family and friends that I may need to call them and have a total breakdown this weekend. Of course, they already knew that, but it was more for my peace of mind and security to know I had people ready and waiting to pick me up. That's just me, I need to make my needs very clear so that I can feel safe and free to relax into whatever comes, joy or pain. It really helps.
All in all, it was a beautiful day. It was full of love, incredible surprises, and natural wonders. I feel like I honored him to the fullest. I feel like he knows it. I still cried. Of course. Tonight I had a pretty bad breakdown. But you know, that's okay I think. Because the good outweighed the bad on his day. For me and for his family and everyone close to me, it was really a pretty beautiful day of being together and appreciating each other deeper than we ever knew how to before he died.
Thanks Sarah...this was fantastic. I, too, have had lots of signs from Fred while walking alone on the beaches of Galveston where we used to walk together. This is the time of year when I transition and head for Colorado for the summer. As I was starting the process of shutting down the condo and loading the car, I noticed this Great Blue Heron hanging out on the beach in front of my place. He hung around for several days, flying in and out at his pleasure. Don't see many Herons with the other shore birds. I know this was Fred easing my transition, which is always very emotional...we had such a good life in both locations. I wish you many more yellow helicopter sighting since it brought you so much. Thanks for all you do for us. My creative process has been shut down for almost 2 years. I think reading your blogs may get me out of the creative drought.
ReplyDeleteBlessings and if you want to come to Colorado with your camera....I'm, your host as Estes Park has incredible wildlife and scenery.
Thanks again...you give me such energy!
Im still in awe of your helicopter sign. I mean, how much more obvious can he be with that one?? Im really in wae of that. When do you ever see toy helicopters just lying in the sand ?? Right near your car?? Broken? Did you take it with you or leave it where it was? Im curious what your instinct was. Also, your idea to create the bday msg out of coals in the air is so fantastic!!! And how cool that his family is so willing to do those types of things with you. I often feel like Im the only person who even would want to do something like that. Very beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kelley!! Well you know…. of COURSE we took it with us lol. His mom and I are gonna put it in the art studio once its all done and ready to use. haha.
DeleteI definitely know that if it weren't for me coming up with crazy ideas like the light writing, that no one else would really think up stuff like that to do lol. I often feel like its my job to come up with stuff that is fun and inviting and helps us to honor him in a positive way. Sometimes they do think i'm weird hahaha but i think they also have grown to truly appreciate how different my brain works than theirs (they're all scientists!)
(Not a widow, but...) When I decided to go to the library to check out something about someone I lost, I turned to leave and there was a beautiful, eye catching brochure for all the local art galleries. It was as if I was being guided out of grief, out of the past, and into a better summer. Also, when I went to leave the parking lot, I had to stop for traffic and it gave me pause to watch an old couple walk down the sidewalk to a love song playing on the car radio. Serendipity! I know I am healed, more, because I appreciated their love instead of my own loss. -Snowygirl
ReplyDeleteI love that story! I can so relate - i've felt like i'm being lead somewhere since losing him. It's as if great loss somehow opens us up to being more in-tune with who or whatever is trying to guide is in life. Thanks for sharing!
DeleteSarah- I did not believe in signs and coincidences until after Ferdinand died. I started to see things everywhere, in things people said or did to things I would come across similar to that yellow helicopter you found. I really enjoying reading this blog and this post struck me today. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I am the same as you, never believed in this stuff until after Drew died. It's pretty incredible though, isn't it? =)
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