noun ˈsīn

a: something material or external that stands for or signifies something spiritual

b:something indicating the presence or existence of something else <signs of success> <a sign of the times>


My mom and I often discussed our love of “signs” we both believed that in the midst of our day life is full of messages, we just need to be present to noticing them.  We also talked that whoever died first needed to send signs to the other.  We promised we would find a way to communicate back and forth. No matter the distance.

What we had talked about with laughter and promises has now come to pass – my mom died on April 10, 2011.

And so begins this record…A Season of Signs

A dear friend who has helped to hold me during this year, referenced this time in my life as a season of sorrow.  Season.  Here’s the thing that all of us, who are blessed to live with the seasons, know – they change.  We live those shifts in our bodies, through all of our sensory experiences.  So too my sorrow. If I fully live this season, I believe  I can more deeply embrace the rhythm of my life. A rhythm of daily life where my mom is no longer with me in the body. I must find new ways of communicating with her and be open to the new ways that she still cares for me.

Right now, out my window, summer is preparing to leave and autumn will soon be arriving.  In the liminal space between these two, I open my heart and my eyes, and wait.

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