Well, Dad. I Saw This One.

A small rock sitting on the grass with the words "Hope" written on it.

I've heard people talk about signs from loved ones who have passed. Feathers appearing out of nowhere. Pennies in unexpected places. Lights flickering.

Songs playing at just the right moment.

I've always been curious about those stories, but I can't say I've ever really felt like I was receiving signs myself.

Until maybe now.

Last week, I had a reading with a medium. I went into it hoping to connect with my dad, who died several years ago. Lately, I've been feeling him around me more than ever, and I felt like he had a message for me. It's hard to explain, but sometimes I'll just be going about my day and feel this overwhelming sense that he's nearby. I'll even say, "Hi, Dad," out loud.

It's not scary. Quite the opposite. It's familiar. Comforting. Loving.

During the reading, my dad came through with a message that made me laugh. Apparently, he's been trying to get my attention for quite some time. Sending signs. Moving things. Doing whatever he can to let me know he's around. He said, "You know—like in the movie Ghost."

And apparently, I've been missing most of them.

Which, if you knew my dad, is actually pretty funny. He had a really odd sense of humor (like mine).

He also shared some things that were deeply meaningful to me. Things about love, about what he understands differently now, and about the ways our beliefs can change. I left that reading feeling closer to him than I have in years and seen and loved for ALL of me.

But here's the thing.

I'm a pretty black-and-white thinker. I spent much of my life believing that things either have an explanation or they don't. That extraordinary claims deserve scrutiny.

And I still believe those things. But lately, some pretty weird things have been happening.

Lights turning on and off on their own. Smoke detectors behaving in ways I can't quite explain. Little moments that make me stop and wonder.

Could there be perfectly reasonable explanations? Absolutely.

Do I know what any of it means? Not even a little.

But I've also been learning that maybe I don't have to know everything. Maybe curiosity is enough.

And then today happened.

I was outside cleaning up leaves in our backyard. Nothing particularly magical about it—quite the opposite. That walnut tree is beautiful, but it's still kicking my butt. Just me, doing yard work, trying to get ahead of the endless piles of fall leaves.

And buried underneath all those leaves was a rock on the grass.

I picked it up.

Turned it over.

And there, written on the back, was one word.

HOPE.

I just stood there.

Now, normally I would have brushed something like this off without a second thought. Someone dropped a rock. It ended up in the yard. End of story.

Except here's the funny thing. I am absolutely the person in our family who would buy a rock with an inspirational word on it. In fact, I'm probably the only person in our family who would.

But I didn't buy this rock.

I have no idea where it came from or how long it's been sitting there, buried beneath the leaves.

And suddenly, I wasn't quite so quick to brush it off.

Of all the rocks. Of all the words. Of all the days.

Hope.

Just Saturday, I was surrounded by hundreds of people at the Hear See Hope auction. It was an incredibly emotional evening for me, watching Dalton and reflecting on how far we've come. Hearing the story of a family navigating the same uncertainty we faced more than twenty years ago. Feeling the love and generosity of a community that has carried so many of us through the unimaginable.

Hope was everywhere in that room.

And just days before that, we had an election. Regardless of where anyone stands politically, I think it's fair to say we're living through a time when a lot of people are feeling uncertain about the future. I know I've been carrying some of that uncertainty myself.

Add to that the changes happening in my own life, the chapters I'm closing, the new ones I'm not quite sure how to begin, and the questions I've been asking about who I am and what comes next. And life sure is life-ing lately. Our family has had some difficult things to navigate, too, and sometimes it feels like everything is happening at once.

It's a lot.

And then, in the middle of cleaning up leaves, I find a rock that says HOPE.

A word that has been woven through so much of my life. A word that has carried me through some of my hardest moments. A word I have returned to again and again, even when I wasn't sure what I was hoping for.

And today, of all days, I needed it.

I thought immediately about my reading last week. About my dad telling me he'd been trying to send signs. About how I've been feeling him so close lately.

And I couldn't help but smile.

Well, Dad. I saw this one loud and clear.

Now, I know what some of you might be thinking. It's a rock. Someone painted it. It ended up in my backyard. I happened to find it.

And you might be absolutely right.

I'm not here to convince anyone otherwise.

The truth is, I don't know exactly what I believe anymore. I'm exploring some things that my younger self probably would have rolled her eyes at. I'm asking questions I never thought I'd ask. I'm becoming more comfortable with the possibility that the world might hold mysteries I can't explain.

And for someone who has spent much of her life needing to understand things, that's a pretty big shift.

But here's what I do know.

I've been missing my dad. I've been needing his presence, his reassurance, his love. And lately, as I've been navigating some pretty significant changes in my life, I've found myself reaching for something beyond what I can see and touch.

My dad. My grandmothers. The people and energies I think of as my spirit team.

I need them more than ever right now.

Not because I expect them to fix anything or tell me what to do. But because there's something deeply comforting about the possibility that love doesn't simply disappear when someone dies. That maybe we're not as alone as we sometimes feel.

And maybe that's what this little rock reminded me of today.

I don't need to decide whether it was a coincidence, a message from my dad, or something in between.

I don't need to prove it.

I don't even need to understand it.

I just needed a little hope today.

And there it was, waiting beneath a pile of leaves in my backyard.

Whatever you believe about signs, spirits, or what happens after we die, I think we can all appreciate those unexpected moments when something finds us at exactly the right time.

Sometimes the meaning isn't in knowing where something came from.

Sometimes it's simply in what it gives us.

Today, a little rock gave me comfort. It made me smile. It made me feel close to my dad.

And it reminded me that even in the middle of ordinary, messy, everyday life, there might still be a little magic waiting to be discovered.

So, Dad, if that was you, thank you.

And if it wasn't?

Thank you anyway.

I needed that today. ❤️