About that time a butterfly went by us, and Dad said, “Look, sweetie, a flutterby!” Being the argumentative kid I was, I said, “No, Daddy (giggle), that’s a butterfly!” He said, “No, it’s a flutterby – see, it flutters by,” and we both laughed. From that day on we called them flutterbys.
About 18 years later, my dear Daddy died while I was out of town with my new family. I had a very hard time with his death; I went into a deep depression.
A short time after my father died, I was out in Dad’s backyard, crying and thinking about him when a flutterby fluttered by. The flutterby went all around me, then stopped, very close. I watched it for a long time. A great feeling of peace spread over me, and a smile came to my face. It was like a message from Daddy that everything would be okay.
And to this day, when things get tough for me, I see a flutterby.
Reprinted with permission from the book, Afterglow: Signs of Continued Love. © 2002, Karla Wheeler. Quality of Life Publishing Co, Naples, FL. www.QoLpublishing.com