Christmas in February - an angel sign on a plane

On the last leg of my flight home from a recent vacation in Kauai, I was sitting in a plane at the airport in Calgary, AB. I closed my eyes and said to my dear departed husband, "Hey, babe, I'm coming home," which is weird because I feel his spirit with me wherever I go.

But I said it. Without questioning it or thinking too much about it.

Then I noticed that the background music playing on the airplane was Little Drummer Boy.

On February 28th. A Christmas song. Weird.

Weirder still is that Little Drummer Boy just might have been Al's favourite Christmas song. He especially loved pumming along as we sang this song with the ragtag group of carollers from our church.

Messages from heaven come in all sorts of ways at all variety of times. I've learned this from my daughter Lisa Driver's three books (Opening Up, Leap, and Boundaries and Bucket-filling) in reading and editing her writings about angel messages and connections to our departed loved ones.

I have learned not to doubt angel signs or question them. I have learned to accept them and be grateful that my departed loved ones want to show me they are with me.

Some angel signs are stranger than others. I have found some to be upsetting because I'd rather have my husband here than wherever he's hanging out these days. But there's nothing I can do about that except feel my feelings.

This particular angel sign made me shake my head in wonder and then smile. Christmas in February on a plane in Calgary. Strange.

Keeping My Chin Up After My Husband's Death

It's been five months and 10 days since my husband, soulmate and business partner Al Driver died of colon cancer. Stupid cancer! I'm so tired of even thinking about it. So I try not to.

I try to get through the days doing some work for our book publishing company, spending time with family and friends, moving stuff around inside my house, and tending to my flower garden and small, new vegetable garden. I am thankful that it is summertime and I can go outside and take short or long walks or bike rides. I can sit in the backyard and ponder or look at the sky at night and talk to the stars.

A couple of weeks ago, I went for lunch with my dear friend Nadine - my girlfriend soulmate. After lunch, we went to a wonderful local garden centre and perused the aisles before buying a few plants for our gardens. At one point, Nadine pointed out this bench:

I started to cry. Heavily.

I turned away from the bench and my attention was drawn to a wall FULL of signs and sayings.

But I only saw this one:

I burst out laughing. I recognized my husband's wacky sense of humour jumping out at me from the many quaint, tender, and funny sayings on that wall. "Come on, Deana. You can do it!"

Thanks, Hon. I needed that.

Yes, I need to keep my chin up. The days will get better, the evenings will eventually be not as long and lonely, and life will return to a comfortable new normal some day.

Our daughter Lisa Driver, who is a gifted spiritual healer and author, sent me a link to the website of another author and blogger who writes about Second Firsts. I have been encouraged and inspired by Christina Rasmussen's blogs, her social media posts, and her changed attitude toward life after loss. I highly recommend her to anyone who has lost someone dear to them.

As I sit alone in my home-based office, I think of others who have come through this and I know I will do so too.

I will get through this with the help of people like you and my friend Nadine.

Thank you for your continued caring of me and our family.

I will enjoy the rosebushes that I purchased in memory of Al.

And I will keep my sense of humour and my love of life.

I will remember all the good times - and some of the tough times - that I had with my husband during our 42 years together. And I will continue to tell his story for the rest of my life so that no one around me forgets him.

And I will hold onto my faith and know that life will again be good.

Chin up, Buttercup!