A few weeks after she died, I opened her mailbox and found a letter addressed to my mom written in her own handwriting.
Yesterday, I read a sample from Joy Williams’ short story collection, Ninety-Nine Stories of God and the first story, Postcard, reminded me of that day.
It’s very short. I tried to find it online so I could share it with you but wasn’t successful. You can, however, read a sample of the book that includes the story on Amazon. In fact, I recommend it.
The book—this story in particular—isn’t inspirational, but it’s delicious to read.
There was nothing mystical in my experience, either.
Or was there?
It’s surprising how often I hear of people experiencing these kinds of moments. I’ve always thought my dad appeared as a hawk resting in our backyard. Francie Lowe, a friend and fellow blogger, writes poignantly about sensing her son’s presence in images of dragons and the color purple. http://www.purpleintrospections
I believe there’s so much more than we think we know.