I believe in angels.
I always have.
I believe that when a person or animal passes… the aura or spirit of that being remains even as the body and soul head onward to the place where that being’s deity or divinity exists. And I believe that angels do have the energy to make us feel them… and I believe that our angels send us signs of their presence.
My Dad’s sign is a purple balloon. This little story goes back years. It was a time in my life that all wasn’t going as well as I had planned. Stuff was going on. I turned to my Dad, who had always been my rock and my hug. I remember waking up on morning and saying aloud, “Dad… show me you are here with me. Give me something.”
And immediately, without thinking, a purple balloon popped into my mind. I said to my Dad, “So you’re telling me that if I see a purple balloon today, that’s you?” And I went about my day.
I wasn’t looking for a purple balloon. I wasn’t even on the look-out for a purple balloon. I just thought that a purple balloon was a possibility. And my day went on… chores and things and stuff.
At around 8:00 pm, I realized that I needed to buy a gift for a graduation party the next day. I didn’t have the time or the money, but I headed the closest mall (which, back then, was a 30-minute journey). I rushed into the mall, rushed from store to store, and soon those giant store gates were being closed. I could hear the metal sounds all around me. Then, I had the thought of a little piece of jewelry… and I turned and ran to the farthest other end of the mall to one of those corner jewelry stores.
What happened next still astounds me to this day.
At that little corner jewelry store… on each of its three sides, were the biggest bunches of purple balloons that I had ever seen. Purple only. All purple.
I stood there in awe. We didn’t have things like camera phones back then to capture this miracle… but the picture of those glorious bunches of purple balloons swaying in front of me is emblazoned on my mind and in my spirit. I knew my Dad was with me, and I smiled through my tears.
This brings me to my post from yesterday about my Dad’s birthday. The photo of him on his boat is purple. I didn’t plan this. The original is correct color and hues and nuances. When Janie was helping me post the photos, this one kept popping up purple. This has never happened before. She tried many times to correct the color, but to no avail. Finally, I said to her, “I think it’s rather ethereal. Let’s go with it.” Janie agreed. I even studied the photo… my Dad’s eyes, the boat, the things on the boat, the water… to see if my Dad was trying to tell me something…
This morning, I read Audrey’s comment about my post. Remember… Audrey and Jane never met my Dad, but they both know the story of the purple balloons, and purple and pink balloons (the girls’ sign for my Dad) pop up everywhere we go in the most fun, interesting, poignant and miraculous ways.
Then it struck me. The purple photo. It IS my Dad playing and helping and being here. The photo that would only be purple IS my Dad on his birthday. It IS ethereal. It IS him in his aura and spirit of an angel. He IS here.
Yes, I believe in angels. I hope you do, too.