A few weeks ago, I was having a really bad week. I had managed to keep myself busy and stay strong through the wake and funeral services, Christmas and New Year's, but the loss of my Nana had really started to set in. I found myself in tears daily and the smallest thing would set me off - a memory in my head on my way to work or a song on the radio on my way home that reminded me of her. Friday afternoon of that week I had had enough and left work early after spending a good part of the day with tear filled eyes. The next morning I was cleaning the house, more specifically the bathrooms. I'm not a complete slob (anymore!) but I also don't clean as much as I should and cleaning the bathrooms is certainly not something I do often enough. On top of that, I finally decided to sort through the magazines that sit in a big bin next to our upstairs toilet, a pile I hadn't tackled in well over a year. Why I chose to do it on that particular Saturday, I'm still not sure. About halfway through the pile, I found a picture. One picture in the entire pile. In fact, there were no other pictures to be found in the bathroom at all. It was also a picture I had never seen before, a picture that had to be at least 30 years old, and one that I have no recollection of how it landed in my possession. The picture was of my Nana - laughing, smiling, and dancing with her father in law, my great grandfather, "Pop." Some people may not believe in signs, but finding this picture has made me a true believer. Nana knew I was down, and wanted to let me know that she is ok. Thank you Nana, I love you and miss you everyday but will remember you with smiles and laughter, not tears of sadness.
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