An Owl Sent From Heaven

My daughter loves owls. She has a few matching owl stuffed animals that were given to her by her Papas and her Gigi and Grampa Tim.
The day Avery and I traveled back to Colorado from my dad’s funeral in New York was heavy. Coming to terms with our reality was a challenge. I was in a daze.

My husband ended up on different flights so Avery and I traveled alone. On our layover we had twenty minutes to get from one end of the airport to the other without missing our connection. I was trying to stay focused pushing Avery in the stroller with several backpacks and luggage bags in tow. Avery was squirming around in her stroller, wanting to get out and walk. Having not strapped her in during my rush at one point she tried to stand up and fell forward. I took a deep breath and knelt down to console her and give her a little pep talk about how she just needed to sit for a few more minutes.

The airport was busy with people hurrying here and there. As I strapped her in I looked up to see a man approaching us. He had a stuffed owl in his hands, an exact match to the two she was already given by her grandparents.

He asked if he could give it to her and I nodded, completely speechless. He told her everything is going to be alright and then disappeared into the crowd.

In that moment I knew we were not alone. I knew that my dad was watching over us, that he was still with us, that we could call on him for guidance and strength.

I continued on to the gate, tears streaming down my face, but the heaviness had receded for a brief moment in time. I felt a wave of comfort wash over me.

I often think about this unexplainable event when I need a reminder that dad is still with us. We have the best guardian angel on our shoulders, and for an instant it feels warm and right between the emptiness and the pain.