The Feather Showed Up

When it happened, I was surprised. I stopped what I was doing and said, out loud..."Is that you, Mom?" I wasn't sure; this was not the drama I had hoped for. Somehow I had envisioned walking out my front door into a snowstorm of white feathers. This would be my sign, my message from the beyond sent by Mom saying, "Yes, my darling, I've arrived safely and am doing fine."

This is the actual feather....

Just after noon today, a month to the day of her death, while swiping the dust mop underneath the large sectional sofa in our family room, out popped this feather amidst the dust bunnies. How weird is that? Why would a crow's feather find its way under our couch?

I wanted to deny the significance of this substantial black feather found inside my house. Placing it on the window sill, I rationalized that I'd think about this "find" later. Later.

When Denny saw the feather tonight, he asked about the circumstances and was blown away by my recitation. His confidence in the significance of this find, four weeks to the day after her death and considering that we've never found a feather in our house before, made me weep. Again.

She loved crows and ravens; their savvy ways, their persistence and keen eye. Always watching, ever vigilant. Few people find crows anything more than a nuisance. Not Mom.

This feather is jet black and large. No question that it comes from a crow.

I think I received my message. Thanks Mom.