Many of you know of our dear friend Barb,
who died from pancreatic cancer in September 2010.
She was larger than life, in life.
She commanded a room at a party. Talked and had more energy
than a bus full of five-year-olds on a field trip.
Seriously, she could have put them to shame.
Seriously, she could have put them to shame.
Still, 19 months after her death, I still find it hard to believe she is gone.
She fought her cancer valiantly.
She never gave up her will to live.
So, it is no surprise to me that she would remain as vibrant in her after life as she did in her human life.
Barb believed in signs.
Especially in coins.
After her first husband died, she often found coins in her path and took it as Kevin's signs that he was still with her.
Just from another place.
Just from another place.
She told all of us these stories so many times.
With Barb, if you heard it once, you heard it ten times.
And that is exactly what was so endearing about her.
My first "sign" from Barb came the day after she passed away.
The song from her wedding came on the radio in the afternoon.
The song I always identified as "Barb's song"..."I Hope You Dance"
played just as I was alone in the store I used to run.
The scary thing...I expected it.
But her best sign of all came the night of her funeral.
The night the sunset glowed a deep shade of purple..
Barb's color...the color of pancreatic cancer.
A color she wore every day since she discovered her cancer.
I cannot look at purple still to this day without thinking of her.
That is how much she embraced it.
A color she wore every day since she discovered her cancer.
I cannot look at purple still to this day without thinking of her.
That is how much she embraced it.
I put my suitcase on my bed to pack it.
I was flying out to Phoenix the next day to meet up with Ty and the kids and visit
his mother, who was in the hospital fighting her own pancreatic cancer battle.
As I opened the suitcase on my bed, I saw, smack-dab in the middle of it,
a heads-up dime.
A dime. A shiny, thin, pretty 10-cent dime.
I knew instantly it was Barb.
What other coin would she leave?
Of all coins, the dime was most like her.
And it was worth 10 cents. Her birthday was on the 10th of September.
Since that time I have found no less than 20 dimes.
All at times or on days when I could really use a little love and support.
All in unexpected places...like in the far back of and under sink cupboard I was cleaning out
so workmen could re-model the bathroom.
Or under the microwave when I pulled it out to clean the counter.
Or under the microwave when I pulled it out to clean the counter.
I am far from the only who who finds dimes from Barb.
She is notorious.
A few weeks ago I opened the dryer to take out towels.
On the tiny ledge, next to the lint trap, was a perfect, heads-up dime.
No sooner had I found it, my phone rang.
It was her husband calling to ask me a question.
Coincidence? I know that it wasn't.
Soon after I found my first dime, her mother told me the entire family
had been finding dimes.
So many of our mutual friends find dimes...only dimes,
and we all know who is leaving her calling card.
Even people she didn't know, or didn't know well,
have told me a dime story.
The other morning Ty woke up with a purple golf ball clutched in his hand.
I have never seen it before, and he didn't remember it being in our room, let alone anywhere near the bed.
But nonetheless, he was clutching a purple golf ball.
I told him Barb was speaking to him in his language...golf.
We aren't sure what the message is, but he got one!
Soon after I found my first dime, her mother told me the entire family
had been finding dimes.
So many of our mutual friends find dimes...only dimes,
and we all know who is leaving her calling card.
Even people she didn't know, or didn't know well,
have told me a dime story.
The other morning Ty woke up with a purple golf ball clutched in his hand.
I have never seen it before, and he didn't remember it being in our room, let alone anywhere near the bed.
But nonetheless, he was clutching a purple golf ball.
I told him Barb was speaking to him in his language...golf.
We aren't sure what the message is, but he got one!
I keep all of Barb's dimes in a special jar.
Proof (as if I needed it) that our lives never really end.
They just take on different forms.
Some days I feel closer to Barb now than when she was alive.
I know she is doing magnificent work in heaven.
And just as she did on this earthly plane,
she is making her presence known.
Each dime I find is a precious gift, a hug from beyond,
and comfort in a sometimes confusing world.
A world where good people get cancer and die before we think they should.
A world where good people get cancer and die before we think they should.
I have learned to be open and to notice the signs.
I believe because of it, I am sent more and more.
I gasped when I opened the dryer door.
Then I got a little teary.
But I always say thank you.
Thank you Barb, for reminding me about the preciousness of life.
Both the sorrow and the sweetness of death,
and the fact (and in my world, this is fact)
that we never really end.
Our souls and spirits live forever.
But most of all...that
But most of all...that
love never dies.
P.S. What's your "dime story"? I'd love to hear it. Even if it isn't a dime. Any "sign" will do :)
