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A monarch butterfly that wasn’t ready to fly, but kept me flapping my wings. And, then drove home with me to pass on yet another message from above.

Before Tom ended up in the hospital I heard news that one of my beautiful friends who had moved away had committed suicide. She left two teenagers and hole in my heart. Tom was continuing to decline. Losing weight and his fever spiked. I got in to a car accident that day as well. Thankfully no one was injured. I Still managed to get the kids taken care of, the accident handled without Tom caring more than he was upset his JEEP had to be fixed and him to the hospital. Poor guy hated needles and nurses could’t seem to get a successful draw. To say that the stress levels were high is an understatement with all that my head and heart were carrying.

A monarch not quite ready to fly!

Fast forward to the last post now. Tom is home from UCLA after his surgery and I’m the only only who seems to be able to keep his ileostomy bag (“shit bag” for short as I called it), again excuse the crass reference, but that is literally what it is. I had to take my daughters to one of my closest friends house to go to volleyball practice. I felt comfortable to vent to Cole as no one else knew Tom and me and all that we had been through. I’m feeling frustrated, overwhelmed and selfishly not holding back the ugly feelings I was struggling with. Why me? Why couldn’t his mom at least try to put a bag on ? If I can do it so could she, but she “didn’t want to hurt him’, she said. Well neither did I!!!! I’ve got three kids I’m trying to take care of , and the nurses seem incompetent and his parents sole job was to care for him. I was going to be tied to my husbands “shit bag” for the rest of my life and I can’t do it all myself and who is there for me , I vented. It wasn’t pretty as you can tell, but honestly where I was at! Wish I could have risen above but I was spiraling down and then all of a sudden said “Rach, look!!!! Its your butterfly on the ground trying to fly. Just keep flapping your wings and one day you too will fly”. It was the gentle butterfly slap in the face to remind me to keep on, stop complaining and one day I too will be free from what’s holding me down.

Without me knowing a monarch crawls up my leg!

We continue to talk. My daughter Bryn starts to yell “mommy, look the butterfly is crawling up your leg”. I obviously needed an extra slap because truth be told I was still bitching a bit. Not really knowing what to do and my daughter said I think it wants to go home with you. So I put it in the Jeep and off I went to meet a friend who had a meal for us. She had lost her baby as well.

He still didn’t want to fly. Guess he wants to come home with me
My butterfly co-pilot!

I remember putting the butterfly back in the planters thinking it would fly away, but it just stayed there. We meet and she shares how when she lost her JAX, and that a hummingbird would come to her window and she knew it was him. We also talk about our good friend who took her life and how our hearts broke for her children. I get home and my sweet friend who didn’t know about my “butterflies “ had written a beautiful butterfly card with words of encouragement. My cousin had a bouquet of roses with paper butterflies delivered, so I decided to put the butterfly that didn’t seem to want to fly away in it. We fed it mango and I had this intense feeling that when this butterfly flies it will have message from Shelly. I just some how felt her spirit.

The next story is one of the most powerful and magical monarch butterfly experiences I have yet to have. And, I have had some amazing ones these last five years as I look back writing this. Keep reading to see how those we have lost are not lost, but messengers now.