Why Butterflies?

My mother was one of those lovely, talented, exceptionally happy people, the kind of person who cared about others and made others smile. She finished her teaching credentials the same year I did, and so we both also began to teach that year. As over the years doctors discovered heart problems, she retired from teaching and began persuing Spanish, swimming, cooking, and relaxing. Sadly, shortly after her 60th birthday, she died suddenly from congenital heart failure. From notes we found in her desk, she was quite aware of the cardiac problems, yet she continued to live each day in joy. Indeed, the girls and I were over at the house, swimming, laughing, and relaxing with her on Sunday, the day before she died. When the phone rang on Monday morning, and I heard my father's voice, I instinctively knew the ultimate reality, even though life support kept her alive for several hours. And in the hours following her death, the entire family was in shock, totally unprepared for the event. It was so difficult for my brother and me to relate the news to my grandmother in town and to my sister and brother out of town, and to figure out how to deal with a devastated father. Yet, we all had to learn to cope, and so we all began to deal with the realilty and plan the service that she would have wanted. We remembered that Mom, an excellent pianist, had always loved a particular piece, "Le Papillion," "the butterfly" in French, and my sister hunted for the music. When she found it, we were all astonished at the words handwritten on it by her long-time-ago piano teacher, "Begin practicing on Monday, June 11," as that was the very day she died. When my sister, sister-in-law, and I went to the church to select the music, we looked up and saw large, colorful, beautiful quilted panels hanging from the front of the sanctuary, adorned with lovely bitterflies! What a coincidence, we thought. Through all of this, I had worked hard to be supportive to the family, but I suddenly felt in need of support, myself, and called upon a dear Episcopalean priest, Charles Fish, who agreed to see my sister and me after a morning communion service, which was also comforting. While sitting in his office, with massive tears, I explained what a hard time I was having in dealing with it all. In his usual calm manner, he replied, "I understand, Judy, why you are so upset. You see, you remember your mother as she WAS, not as she is NOW." He then reached up behind him to a shelf and pulled down a small box. He opened the lid, removed something, and held out his hand. There lying on his hand was the shell of a caterpiller, and he explained, "Just like this caterpiller, your mother has turned into a beautiful butterfly, has flown away, and has soared to new heights." The tears that followed were a combination of relief and joy, just as they are right now as I write this. Susie and I left, not only comforted, but convinced that Mom knew exactly what was happening and had left us a message. When we returned to the house, an amazing thing happened! Right before our eyes, there in plain sight, but never noticed before, were butterflies everywhere! They appeared on china, on vases, on towels, on art, on wall hangings, and even on the toilet paper!

So, if any of you see any one of us wearing butterflies or having butterflies in our homes, now you know why! They represent a very special person to us, when we realized how the butterfly so clearly symbolizes the beginning of a NEW life, one that we have had reason to celebrate every day!