This same thing kept happening different places we would go. I took Mom home one day and there was a big dragonfly just floating by her car (we were in mine.) I took the kids to the playground while Trey had baseball practice. About 5 dragonflies were circling the kids. They even came right up to me so I could get a few pictures. We figured these dragonflies were messages from Stephen. That he's here with us in spirit. I figured, (if anyone knew Stephen, they'd agree) Stephen picked a dragonfly, probably because a butterfly was "too gay." A butterfly wouldn't be manly enough for him.
The dragonflies had been gone for a while, and then I found the card in the store. You can read about it here. I have it framed on my desk.
About a week or two ago, the dragonflies returned. There's this really cool-looking one that hangs out at my house, and it's the same one all the time. It's black with this neon green color throughout. (The same green as Stephen's initials on Bill's racecar.) It came close and let me take some pics of it until Jakey ran up and scared it off.
What's funny is when the kids were on the trampoline yesterday, it came up there with them. Trey sprayed it with the waterhose and Kinsey said, "Don't do that! It's Uncle Steve!"
These were the dragonflies from the ball field last year:
And these pics are of the dragonfly at my house right now:
3 comments:
Hi, my name is Kathy. Your blog was included in a Google search results list of mine today. I was looking for a dragonfly story shared at Church that beautifully illustrates the passing of a person from life, to life. Anyway, I got to wondering if you've ever heard the story. I'll paste in a copy of a version I found, below. It is slightly different than the one told at Church, but essentially the same story. I thought you might like to know about it if you've never heard of it before.
"Imagine a colony of grubs living on the bottom of a swamp. And every once in a while, one of these grubs is inclined to climb a leaf stem to the surface. Then he disappears above the surface and never returns. All the grubs wonder why this is so and what it must be like up there, so they counsel among themselves and agree that the next one who goes up will come back and tell the others. Not long after that, one of the grubs feels that urge and climbs that leaf stem and goes out above the surface onto a lily pad. And there in the warmth of the sun, he falls asleep. While he sleeps, the carapace of the tiny creature breaks open, and out of the inside of the grub comes a magnificent dragonfly with beautiful, wide, rainbow-hued, iridescent wings. And he spreads those wings and flies, soaring out over those waters. But then he remembers the commitment he has made to those behind, yet now he knows he cannot return. They would not recognize him in the first place, and beyond that, he could not live again in such a place. But one thought takes away all the distress: they, too, shall climb the stem, and they, too, shall know the glory.
God be with you and yours, now and always, Kathy
Dear Nicole,
Just wanted to tell you how much I can relate to what you say about Stephen and the dragonflies as I had a similar experience when someone I loved died.
As Simon was dying a huge, hairy dragonfly got trapped inside the room. His niece, Carla, and I were outside and he seemed to hover at the window staring at us before dropping suddenly onto the couch. I picked him up and set him free to fly away. Both Carla and I felt it was a message.
Immediately after Simon's death, the dragonfly came back when Carla and I were outside. It stayed around for a strangely long time as though trying to make a point.
At the wake a few days later I was telling the story to someone when Carla came running over asking if I had seen it. The same kind of dragonfly had flown straight through the crowd to circle about me as I told the story.
For the next few weeks, this dragonfly would show up at moments when I was falling apart. It doesn't matter what anyone else says, for Carla and I this dragonfly was a message that allowed us to have faith that Simon was still with us in spirit when we were in those first awful throes of grief. With all the support of family and friends, it was the dragonfly that brought me the most comfort.
I think we as a modern civilization have lost touch with the signs and omens of nature that link us with the spiritual. I know Carla and I will always be grateful for the dragonfly's message that linked us with Simon.
With you, sister. Thank you for putting it out there. Lisa
Lisa, thank you so much for taking the time to send me a message. It means a lot to me. I haven't updated my blog lately, which just shows that I am doing ok and not needing to "vent" as much as I used to. I am so sorry for your loss, but grateful you have dragonflies to bring you comfort like I do. I have a friend who lost her sister and we call each other "dragonfly sisters" because we both have dragonflies (and the sudden, unexpected loss of a sibling) in common and dragonflies mean a lot to us.
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