Brady John · Life After Loss

A Star is Born

The backyard at our new house is amazing.  First off, we have an actual yard (buh-bye townhouse), but more than that, it just doesn’t feel like we are very close to other people.  Our yard isn’t even a 1/2 acre, but I guess the space must be used well.  When we’re outside at night, looking up, Jeff and I have both commented that it feels like you’re at a cabin.  The starry sky is vast and stretches out around you in all directions.  Looking up at the night sky, I have always felt a sense of peace and calm.

Okay, our yard might not be this expansive, but you get the idea.

Due to an unseasonably warm day in February, Jeff and I had our first bonfire at our new place a bit earlier than we’d expected.  Fresh off of our loss, I remember looking up at the sky that night, thinking of Brady, and feeling his presence.  But why did I feel such a connection?

I’ve struggled with signs of Brady’s presence, and knowing when he’s close.  I’ve had my fair share of more obvious signs, like the beep and the dream.  Some people have eagles, butterflies, or dragonflies.  While eagles and dragonflies trigger Brady memories for me, I still felt something was missing.  My therapist told me that signs are highly personal, and basically, whatever feels like a sign to you, is a sign to you.  There’s no wrong “thing” when it comes to signs.  I remember a friend telling me that her grandmother told them when she was ill that she was going to come back to them as a squirrel.  Sure enough, after her grandma’s death, an albino squirrel showed up to a bunch of family functions.

This week, it was like all the puzzle pieces coming together.  It hit me, Brady is a star.  There’s so much evidence.  Brady was born a star.

Stars on stars

The night that Brady was born, I arrived in his NICU room and saw his name emblazoned in happy letters on the whiteboard, probably written by one of his nurses, surrounded by stars.  Brady’s eye cover (a part of so many stories, including this one) was made from fabric covered in stars, with the words “a STAR is born” scrawled across it.  And then there was a special gift from my friend, Taren, that arrived shortly after Brady passed away.  A beautiful candle holder with these words:

Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy.

No wonder I’ve felt so connected to the night sky.

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