Years ago, shortly after Dad was killed, I was in Alabama, sitting in a car talking to our attorney about developments in our case when a mockingbird flew down and sat on the passenger side rear view mirror, just outside my window.  It sat there for the longest time, just cocking its head and staring at me.  I ignored it for quite awhile, then told my attorney that if there was life after death then this bird was surely my mother!  Just the way it was looking at me, as if it were listening to my conversation and egging me on to make sure I did a good job getting justice for Dad.  A few months later a friend of mine painted a mockingbird on a rock for me.  The rock sits by my front door here at home, and I look at it every day and say a silent hello to my Mom.

This past week I was wandering around Auburn University’s campus, taking pictures of pretty flowers, trees and buildings.  I didn’t know for sure where the building was that Mom used to work in, but just before I headed back to the car I turned a corner and there it was.  I took a quick picture and as I was turning to leave a mockingbird flew down and sat on a post near the front door of the place where Mom worked for ten years.  I stopped to watch it for a moment.  It watched me back.  I figured it was probably Mom again, just saying hello.  So I said hello and we eyed each other for a bit.  Then I turned to walk away, smiling at the encounter.  A few feet further and I looked back over my shoulder.  The bird was gone, but I know the truth.

Earlier in the week  my brother and I were driving through Auburn looking for the new art museum.  We were a bit turned around when suddenly I noticed that we were driving right past some homes that Dad had owned as rentals.  I quickly turned my head to look and saw a man, standing on the front porch of one of them, back to us, hands in his pockets, baseball cap sitting on top of grey hair.  A short man, he looked just like Dad.  “Hey!” I said to my brother as the houses slipped out of sight.  “That looked just like Dad!”  He agreed, and we didn’t say anything more.  It was such a comforting thing to see Dad standing there; no more needed to be said.

I know that when you lose someone you love you look for signs that they’re alright.  And I know we’ve all been doing that now for five years.  The really cool thing is that these days when we see something that we can interpret as that positive sign we can smile rather than cry.  And find comfort instead of that familiar stab of pain.  Progress.

So I guess my mama’s a mocking bird and daddy’s standing out on the porch somewhere.  All’s right with the world.