There are times when they pepper my path. In their abundance, they seem to boom like a resounding gong that refuses to go unnoticed. Other times, they are tucked away like buried treasure that when found cause me to pause. I’ve tried to make sense as to why it would be a small shiny penny that makes me think of my little one. There are so many other things that are just so her. A small-outstretched hand holding droopy flowers just plucked from the ground, a hug that clings tightly or the little girl crouched on her knees whispering her secrets to a furry friend, each so very Catherine. These are countless moments that soothe our hearts and remind us of the love she shared so deeply and freely. But for me, it’s a small shiny penny that carries her whisper from heaven directly to my heart.
I’ve rattled it around in my mind, trying to make sense- to make a connection- an explanation as to why a penny. Maybe because it is the color of her hair or that I must be reminded of where I lay my trust? I’ve even stopped in my tracks when the song she would belt out in our living room concerts told me when paired with a dime it was for a kiss. I could make a connection and pinpoint an absolute reason why but every time I think I know the reason, a new one surfaces. Time after time, experience after experience, penny after penny, I have come to know and trust- all things are not meant to be understood. Some things are just meant to be felt and felt deeply.
I will never understand why my little one only graced this earth only for six years but know each moment she did was a gift. When I come across a picture that had been tucked away, I am taken back to that exact moment in time. I sit with it and allow the tears to run freely. I’ve learned it’s through the tears that the memory has the opportunity take root in the crevices of my heart. I will never understand how the depth and breath of love for my children can grow deeper than it is right now and yet I am continually brought to a place I didn’t think possible. I walk beside my brave one and see the little boy who once snuggled in beside me is a now young man. I listen to his concerns and dreams and my heart overflows that I am allowed into his.
It’s in understanding that I need not understand that brings me peace. There is a freedom in accepting not all things can be packaged up neatly. There is serenity in the knowing not everything can be explained. Whether it makes sense or not, whether there is an explanation or not, the shiny penny causes pause, even if for a moment, and allows me to whisper back to my little one.