Still letting me know what to do, what to wear and where to look

It’s happened three times since Susie, my bride of 40 years, passed away more than nine years ago. This was the first time it happened.

I was looking for an important piece of paper and was going through my files at my desk at home. It was a few months after Susie had passed.

“Why wasn’t I more organized?” I thought to myself. I was annoyed, exasperated and angry with myself. If Susie were still here, she would know exactly where to look. Because it’s been more than nine years,

I can’t remember exactly which document, but I do remember it was important.

In frustration, I put all my unsorted files on my desk into one tall stack. It took me about an hour, but I went through each file and still didn’t find it.

I restacked all the files and sat for a second. Because I was alone, and out of desperation, I said out loud, “Honey, can you please help me find this darn paper?” As I spoke those words, my elbow hit the stack of papers and slung them across my floor like a deck of cards spread neatly on a poker table ... except for one piece of paper. Like a gust of wind had blown, one piece flew out of the neatly spread stack. I said out loud, “No, you didn’t?”

I reached down and picked it up. And yes, it was the document for which I had spent two hours searching. I shook my head, laughed, and said, “Thank you honey.”

The second time it happened was about five years ago.

Hanging in my bedroom closet were my dress and casual shirts. I was getting ready for business meetings and couldn’t decide which shirt to wear. Should I wear a tie or go more casual? As I looked at the shirts trying to decide which one to wear, I asked Susie, again, out loud, “Honey, which one should I wear?” As I said those words, a shirt fell off the hanger.

I reached down to pick it up and thought to myself, “Honey, are you sure?” I rarely wore this shirt because it was a one of those that had been in shirt purgatory in my closet. It wasn’t really business, and it wasn’t really casual, but hey, Susie picked it, so I wore it to all my meetings.

People seemed to enjoy the fashion risk I took that day. With each quizzical look, I was hoping Susie was really enjoying herself.

The third time happened last weekend. It was an unusually hectic Saturday that thankfully ended a really frenzied week. My daughter Nikki asked me to make her favorite “bomb” artichokes for dinner. It was a perfect food / mental therapy session after my rough week. I was alone in the kitchen and put on my favorite Motown Pandora music station while preparing the artichokes.

Our favorite wine to have with artichokes is Harmony Chardonnay from the Central Coast. I was thinking to change it up but wasn’t sure which bottle to chill for dinner. I looked at our wine rack and was about to reach for the Chardonnay, but thought, let me just for the heck of it, ask Susie what she thought we should have for dinner.

Because I was alone, I asked out loud, “Honey, which wine should we have tonight?” As I spoke those words, and like someone had gently nudged one of the bottles a fraction of an inch to lean it to the front of the wine rack, was a bottle of J. Lohr’s Cabernet Sauvignon, Susie’s favorite.

As we enjoyed the artichokes and wine, I shared my “Susie” stories with Nikki, daughter Brenna and son-in-law Carlos. I explained that when it happened those three times, there wasn’t a shift in the air or change of energy in the room. Nor did I feel a light brush of my hair, a gentle touch, or a hug.

It was just their mom still telling me what to do, where to look and what to wear like she always had and lovingly continues to do. And more importantly, letting us know she is still there watching over us all from above.

What do you think?