Little Signs

When you think about growing up, who comes to your mind immediately with your most favorite memories?  For me, it's my Grandma Meg and Grandpa Bob.  I spent 2-3 weeks each summer, starting when I was 8 years old, up in Canada at their cottage on Four Mile Lake.  That lasted until I was about 18 years old.   The cottage was, and actually still is, in between 2 tiny towns called Coboconk and Fenlon Falls in Northern Ontario.  I spent hours reading books, fishing, going on hikes, playing with my friend who lived on the other side of the lake and playing card games with my grandma.  I fed the birds and helped tame the chipmunks.  Bluejays were the most prevalent, chickadees were the cutest and the whipoorwills were by far the most annoying. Heaven help you if you had one decide to land on the roof at 3am! I had a chipmunk we named Rascal who was there every summer, ready to greet me.  She had a half a tail so she was easy to spot.  For six or so summers, I could hid a peanut behind my ear or under my swimsuit strap and she would run up my arm, find it, stuff it in her cheek and take off again.  (I have photos to prove this if you think I'm making that part up).  

In addition to my grandparents, most of the rest of my mom's side of the family is up in Canada. I'm also lucky enough to have other friends that are just like family to me.  In fact, one of those couples now own's my grandparents cottage and so we are fortunate to still have access to it and can still bring our kids up there for wonderful experiences.

Sadly, both of my grandparents have been gone for quite some time. We lost my grandpa at the beginning of 2000 and my grandma passed in September of 2002.  I miss them more than I can say. However, every once in awhile, something happens and I believe they've given me a little hello from wherever they are now.

At my family session this past Sunday, we all moved to a nearby bridge to take a few photos.  I sat on the railing of the bridge and the next thing I hear is one of the little girls reciting letters that she seemed to be reading from underneath the exact spot where I was sitting. Literally, right underneath my legs.  I couldn't figure out what in the world she was doing.  So I move, squat down and see this:

It's been said that, if you are open to them, you'll get signs from your loved ones who have passed on.  There it was. A little hello from two of my most favorite people who have been a part of this journey of mine.   Keep your eyes and your heart open. You never know who you might hear from or what form the hello will take.