Signs & Connections #2
The Elvis miracle on January 6, 2021—poster, beer, song, movie—shouted Alex was near. But the first weeks? That’s when my broken heart learned to ask… and his love answered in whispers that still bring me to my knees.
If you’re grieving, please—open your mind and heart. Ask for a sign. Your loved one is waiting to comfort you. It’s not easy for them to send from the other side, but when we notice? It’s pure joy across the veil. These are my earliest gifts from Alex—raw, real, and still healing me five years later.
Rainbows: My Desperate Plea Within days of finding Alex in his final sleep, I started begging: “Show me you’re okay. Send a rainbow.”
- First day back at Lake Club Marina (the same place I was when he passed): I pulled up, tears blurring everything. A full rainbow arched over the lake—waiting just for me.
- Dinner with family: My grandson Jaiden looked up and said, “Mimi, can I draw you a rainbow just for you?” My heart cracked open.
- Lacie doing my hair: She grabbed a fresh box of rainbow foils—never used before.
- Letting go a long-time manager (it crushed me): Driving home from TN, a huge rainbow painted the interstate sky.
- My aunt’s service in GA: A double rainbow framed the moment we arrived.
Every single one came the day I asked—sometimes within hours. I stopped counting. They still come when I need them most.
The Jeep: Hot Pink Love Notes January 2021. My husband and I decided to buy a black Jeep—Alex had been working on purchasing one. That morning, I whispered: “Guide me, baby.” Test-drove the perfect Wrangler. After, I asked again: “One more sign?” My husband popped the hood. I looked up—two drops of hot pink paint, one on each wiper. Hot pink was our color—Alex’s favorite, and mine. “Baby” the Jeep has carried me through every hard day since. I kiss those wipers every time I see them.
222: His Gentle Nudge The day we bought the Jeep, 222 began.
- License plates. Receipts. Clock at 2:22.
- Invoices. Gas pumps.
- Our new porch? Measured 222 inches—by accident.
Now I see full sequences—1111, 444, 555—and I’ve learned their meanings. They guide me through big choices: Stay? Forgive? Keep going?
Alex, the Universe, they always answers in numbers, every time.
Faith’s Restaurant Moment – February 2021 Faith, Alex’s sister, had been begging all day: “Alex, I need you.” We sat down. Our waiter? Alex. Red hair like hers. His watch lit up—a rainbow face. She gasped. We all did. He had no idea what he’d just delivered.
These signs didn’t just comfort me—they saved me. If you’re aching, ask. Say their name. Pick something personal—a color, a song, a bird. Then watch. Acknowledge it out loud: “I see you. Thank you.” They love when we do. It’s not wishful thinking. It’s love crossing over.
(And just now, as I finished typing this blog, the clock hit 22:22—Alex winking one more time. I snapped a photo. He’s always listening.)
I’m just getting started. More stories coming—ones that will leave you with zero doubt our souls live on.
Your Turn What sign are you asking for today? Comment below—I read every one.
Next: “The Messenger Who Approached Me”
#LiveMoreLikeAlex #SignsFromBeyond #SpiritualJourney #GriefHealing
