Keep Sending me Butterflies Dad

When my dad first died in 2016, I would constantly search for signs of him to keep our connection alive. I found myself always looking for butterflies, cardinals, hummingbirds, pennies, and bird feathers, grasping to the hope that he was sending me a sign. I always believed in it, but I also sometimes felt silly. I wondered how many others saw the same butterfly or walked by the same bird feather, thinking the same thing… that their loved one was connecting with them. It became less meaningful as time went on. I think I just tried to be more realistic about it and not disappoint myself if I asked for a sign and didn’t get one. 

Butterflies symbolize hope and transformation and are often seen as signs from a deceased loved one. 

But then I started noticing that I was seeing signs from him on days when I really needed it. There are two very distinct moments that stand out to me. I was on the phone with my doctor, receiving scary health news. While on the phone with her, I looked outside and saw a butterfly hanging out outside my window at work. The butterfly kept coming back and floating around my window that day. I took it as a sign that everything was going to be okay (and it was and still is, thankfully.) Another time, I had to fire an employee at work, and I was really nervous because this person had a very bad temper, and I wasn’t sure how he was going to react. As soon as his final check was delivered to my office and it was time to call him in to have the hard conversation, sure enough, a butterfly showed up, and it was very calming. 

From that moment on, I really started believing in it. I would ask my dad for signs, and I would get them. It helped make the tough days slightly easier. 

One day, this all was confirmed for me, and I saw the absolute most beautiful sign from him that brings me goosebumps every time I think about it. But first, a little backstory to paint a picture about why this moment in my life was so special… 

My grandpa was born in 1925, and our family inherited a farm near Boulder, CO, in 1926. My grandpa lived in the city of Denver but started having bad asthma flare-ups and allergies when he was 5 or 6 years old. His doctor recommended he move somewhere else, as he thought the “big city” pollution was causing him to develop asthma flare-ups. Luckily, the family had the farm, so my great-grandparents and grandpa moved out there with my other relatives. My grandpa loved farming so much and ended up eventually inheriting the farm. He had three sons (my dad and my 2 uncles), and the 3 boys grew up on the farm as well. There happened to be three houses on the farm, so when the boys were old enough to live on their own, they each took a house, and my grandparents moved to Boulder. I was born and raised on the farm, along with my two siblings and 3 cousins. I lived next door to my cousins, and we grew up playing outside constantly and had the best time. I have so many memories of being at the farm with many family members, and it is such a special place for me.

This lake is on the farm. My dad and I spent many hours fishing and walking around it. It's seriously my favorite place on Earth. 

The farm is my favorite place in the world to be. It is filled with many beautiful childhood memories, and my husband proposed to me there. It then became the place where my cousin’s ashes were spread under her favorite tree. Shortly after she died, my dad died, and we added a headstone for my dad, as well as his ashes at the farm. After my dad’s death, the farm became one of the most torturous places for me. It went from being my favorite place to a place full of dread and despair.  I would get the worst anxiety every time I went out there. I forced myself to go visit my dad’s headstone on his death anniversary, birthday, and Father’s Day. I would have a horrible stomachache just thinking about going there. A place that was so magical to me became a place of darkness and bad memories of watching my dad fight cancer for 10 ½ months.  But one day, it all changed. 

Visiting my dad’s headstone. Wearing sunglasses helped hide the tears.

What began as another dreadful Father’s Day of visiting the farm a few years ago suddenly became a turning point in my healing and in my grief journey. I went with my husband, Jeff, and our two daughters. We would always all go to my dad’s headstone and pay respects, and then the three of them would head back to the car and let me have some alone time. That day, I was having a tough day and a tough time with life. My anxiety and depression were so bad, and I was struggling to get through each day and was very stuck in my grief. I was crying and begging my dad to please keep sending me butterflies. I said my goodbyes and then walked back to the car. Jeff held me as I cried on his shoulder. Suddenly, he goes, “Krystle, look!”. I turned around and saw butterflies everywhere – probably 50 of the little white butterflies just surrounded us. It was such an unbelievable sight. We got back in the car, and I was telling Jeff excitedly that I knew that was my dad because I asked him to keep sending butterflies. I was so happy and excited! I then said to Jeff, “How does he do that?” I looked out the window, and another butterfly flew up and floated for a few seconds and took off. 

This moment was such a turning point in my life and really reassured me that we will always be connected to our loved ones. They are always there when you need them. Even if you don’t get a sign from them, I truly believe that when you talk to them, they can hear you. Now, when I go out to the farm, I have the BEST time, and I am always full of energy and excitement. It was like the energy of the farm completely changed at that moment, and it was like my dad was telling me to pull myself together and live my life. And that was the start of my grief healing and really leaning in to do the work. 

Not a day goes by that I don’t miss my dad or think about him, and that will never change. But I now smile way more than cry at the memories, and I think it is because I truly know he is still with me, even if not physically. I look forward to my farm visits and go as often as I can. 

Now, keep sending me those butterflies and signs on the hard days, Daddy! I love you always!