I was reading a post earlier today that discussed life after death and whether it is real or not. I choose to believe that there is so much more to our existence than just… here.

I am not religious by any exageration of the mind, but I am spiritual and I have faith that whatever you choose to believe in: whether it is God, Spirit, Allah or any other divinity: it all boils down to there being more than just here and now. I believe that we are so much more than we realize and these earthly bodies are just how we experience our time here on Mother Earth.

My son, Samuel James Hills, was 31.5 years old when he died last summer. He was my third born child of four. Not a breath goes by that he isn’t in my thoughts and not a day goes by that I don’t have a panic’d thought that he is gone. That I will never feel his hug or see his grin and hear his voice again, has left me in mere shreds of who I used to be. But, I know he is with me. And I have been so gifted to receive the signs he sends me to remind me often that he is not far. I believe that we all receive these gifts from our loved ones: but some folk are just more tuned in to receive them than others. This is so very sad because I hear so many moms who are desperate for a sign from their child but don’t receive them. Chances are, they just don’t understand them when they are gifted by their loved one.

The night of Sam’s funeral, we had a reception at the family cottage and invited those who attended as well as anyone who couldn’t attend ( Covid mandate only allowed a max of 60 at the funeral) to join us for refreshments, and a get together to remember such an incredible and missed young man.

Sam loved the cottage, and had said to scatter his ashes there. While we had most of his ashes interred at the National Military Cemetary in Ottawa ( he was a soldier and I felt it fitting that he be buried amongst other heros in a place of honour) I did hold back a small packet of ashes to scatter at the cottage as he had requested in his final note to us.

Most of our guests started to leave just as the sun was starting to go down. At dusk, I asked family to gather by the river side so that we could all remember Sam as I scattered his ashes to the gentle breeze. I asked my oldest son to play the song ” The Crow and the Butterfly” by Shinedown as I did this, on Sam’s Bluetooth speaker. ” (The Crow and the Butterfly” is a song about a mother’s loss and if you haven’t seen the video, you should watch it.). As the music played, we watched his ashes disappear into the air and when the music stopped, I wanted just a moment of silence. Except, Sam’s Bluetooth speaker had a different idea. It started to play a song by Creed called ” My Sacrifice” and the words to that song will give you goosebumps after I tell you the rest of my story. Seriously : listen to the song and read the lyrics as you do.

Anyway, just as that song started to play, this big dragonfly flew down right in front of us and started swooping and diving and hovering before our eyes: as if dancing to the music. It was beautiful. As I watched and listened I figured that when the music ended the dragonfly would still be there as it was probably just hunting…. but when the music faded away, the dragonfly hovered in front of us- facing us for the briefest moment, and then it flew off into the night sky.

What makes this story even more moving and beautiful, is that the day before his funeral, I started wearing a necklace with a dragonfly pendant which contains within, a small amount of Sam’s ashes.

While Sam has given me so many more signs since that night, the Dragonfly was such a beautiful gift at the end of one of the hardest days of my life. I have zero doubt, that it was my son coming to tell us that he was with us.

Now….go and listen to that song.

Published by iamtherealjude

I am a mother of four beautiful grown children. My son Sam: My youngest boy, lost his fight with his demons on Aug 19, 2021. This blog is a dedication to my sweet young man who I will forever look for in the beauty of this world until my last breath.

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