Evolving Sweetie: Somewhere Over the Rainbow

This is my 100th post. Hard to believe I've had that much to say already...just kidding. For this momentous occasion I want to share a magical and sad story. Hinted a while ago in my "Letting Go" post that I have a story about rainbows and Chuck. Here it is.

The scene takes place in my condo on March 20, 2008 on my would-be 4th wedding anniversary - one year after Chuck passed. I worked from home that day as it was hard predict how my heart & head would react. And privacy was needed. As I recall the weather was fickle that day trying to decide if it was going to be partially sunny, sunbreaks, partially cloudy...oh, yes we Seattlelites live the distinctions between these terms. Stumbled through the day as best as I could being surprisingly productive. A few minutes before 5:00pm, I watered the garden on my deck and noticed a huge storm approaching. Coming inside the dark skies took my last bit of resolve and I called it quits for the night.

Leading up to the first set of anniversaries, I wrestled with my wedding set. At first it was an enormous comfort to see my beautiful, ornate setting on my left hand where Chuck placed it. It grounded me and symbolized of our life together. On the day Chuck passed, I placed his wedding band on my right hand and where it still resides. The closer I got to the close of the first year, my wedding set turned from a comfort to a liability. Glancing at my hands, strangers would ask me questions about my husband. Innocent, oblivious inquiries that they never in a million years could anticipate unleashed such a tragic tale. It felt painful & cruel to set myself and others up in that situation.

Handling my early grief, I constructed a number of rituals. And to me the rings went on with purpose, specifically, intentionally and that was the way they needed to come off. My heart knew that to move forward I couldn't continue wearing them for another year. But an empty left hand was more symbolism than I was ready to handle.

Finally, I decided I needed to take the rings off on our wedding anniversary. While packing up my work computer that day, the skies opened up and rain started coming down in buckets. Going to dinner with my sister & bro-in-law to celebrate my anniversary was still hours away and I broke down. Lighting Chuck's candle in front of his memorial picture, I poured my heart out to him about my decision on the rings. Everything in my heart bled out...that I put on the rings for life, that it killed me to have to take them off, that I needed to move forward, that I was sorry, that I hoped he forgave me.... The sobbing was so hard, I couldn't breathe. Scattered into a thousand pieces.

Its that exact moment a beam of sunlight lit up my face through my deck door. In a daze I stood up and opened the door. Stepping onto my deck I realized that I was in the middle of a huge glorious rainbow. Never have I seen one this close up before - it was right across the street. Felt like I was floating in the center of it. As my breath began to catch and steady, it grew brighter and more brilliant. And my soul received this message "I know love, it is alright. I love you and this is what you need to do. We will be alright." Then the rains thundered down and the rainbow was gone.

The message conveyed to me that I was loved and Chuck was ok. Was it from Chuck? Was it from God? I believe from both. It pulled me from the deepest pit of my despair and grief with hope and love. Reassuring my battered soul that removing my wedding bands at this time was the right decision. Did it make that step any easier to do? No - I still died again inside later that night when the time came to remove the rings that bound me to Chuck. But my anniversary rainbow left it's spark that continues to shine in me.

Most people I tell this story to get a shudder. Is your soul recognizing the sign too? One of the facilitators at my widow support group was in awe and excited that I saw a rainbow that day. Apparently, it's a classic ADC (After-Death Communication) sign to see a rainbow on a significant date after a loved one has passed. Here is a link to a website I found that sited other similar stories. Butterflies & Rainbows I've seen a few other rainbows in my travels since when I've been acutely missing Chuck. To me, they are little hellos from heaven.

Somewhere over the rainbow, we all continue on. Thank you for that magnificent sign.