Microblog Mondays – A sign

People have told me stories about their loved ones leaving them a sign after they pass.  Even my sister sent me a picture that she took of an flooding kitchen sink (in the middle of the night) that contained an image reflected in the faucet.  One of her taking the picture and right beside her a figure that she says is Mum.  I saw it, and uh, well, I could understand why she said that.

So where was my sign?  In my eulogy, I talked about how Mum would send me care packages in the mail when I moved away. She’d send lemons, potatoes, dried cod fish, toilet paper, cleaning supplies, a half bag of rice, little dairy creamers that inevitably leaked all over the potatoes and created a soggy, leaky mess that I had to retrieve from the post office.  Also she would include change for laundry, maybe $5 or so.  I never asked her money, but somehow she always knew when I really needed it.   Well, about a week after Mum died, I discovered that she left me a rather large amount of money as the beneficiary of her life insurance.  I sent in her death certificate, figuring it would take weeks and weeks for it to arrive.  In the meanwhile, I was owed a huge cheque from a client whose business suddenly disappeared, I typed rush jobs until 3am, I got a small gig, but hubby’s work was drying up for the month and we were wondering how we would get through the next couple of months never mind Christmas.

The cheque arrived last week.  Now it’s not enough to get us out of debt or even close to it, but let’s just say, it’s going to be a very, merry Christmas.

Thanks Mum.