Signs 🦋

Last week, my partner surprised me with a slice of banana cream pie and a card with a butterfly drawn on the envelope.

There wasn’t an anniversary. No milestone. No obvious reason for a special treat on a Tuesday night.

I said, almost offhandedly, “Butterflies remind me of my mom.”

And then it hit me—it was my mom’s birthday.

He had written me a thoughtful card wishing her a happy birthday and somehow chose the perfect pie (she loved bananas). We placed a single pink candle in the center of the slice and set it beside a small framed photo I keep of her in our living room. The flame gently illuminated her face.

We sang happy birthday, and my emotions rose easily. 

We sat there for a minute, watching the candle burn. I found myself talking about something I don’t often: how after my mom passed, I began noticing more synchronicity. Frequent visits from butterflies. Certain songs. Small symbols appearing at just the right moment.

It felt like I had briefly tuned into a different frequency of the world. As if grief peeled back a layer of noise and sharpened my sensitivity to meaning.

I’m not someone who leans heavily into signs or superstition. But I can’t deny that certain moments in my life have felt… charged.

When the candle melted down to a small stub, our takeout delivery arrived.

Inside the bag was an unexpected, complimentary slice of cake.

We got chills.

I’m not sure what to make of moments like that.

But I do know they make me feel more connected—to her, to something slightly larger than the day-to-day logistics of life.

And I know I would like to have more of them 🦋

Happy Sunday,
Nas