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My mom, Jane Losson had a hard battle with cancer before it finally took over her body completely and went into her liver. From that time on, things went fast. When she found out she had the dreaded deadly disease, she asked if she could visit us in Germany. Unspoken words of her wish to spend one last time with us. She spent a meaningful two weeks with us; the little things we did each day being her last simple pleasures that we would share together and giving me memories of her to hold on to. For breakfast, we always sat outside on our patio which we call “Café Butterfly”, a nickname given it by my friend Monique who named it after me.
When the bad news came from America that “it’s time”, we hurriedly planned an overseas trip in our panic and were filled with grief with thoughts of Mom’s funeral. During this afternoon in November I was outside pulling up fall flowers and transporting them to a certain spot in the garden so they wouldn’t freeze while we’re gone. At the same time my husband was on the phone making flight arrangements and I was in and out, packing suitcases, taking care of things around the house that had to be done and trying to keep my head. This was a day filled with grief and panic, stress and confusion and the situation was a challenge for our nerves that we didn’t master. Suddenly in the midst of the turbulence, my husband called me outside to Café Butterfly to see something on the table that he was pointing at. “Look at that, a butterfly” he said to me. I thought, “That’s strange; a butterfly in November”. I looked down at it perched so quietly on the table, its angellic wings spread out like a coat of many colors. Brilliant orange with blues and greens, contrasting white spots and strong black markings made up its majestic robe. Designs like eyes decorated each corner of its wings. It was beautiful. I went into the house to get my camera. When I came back, it was still lying peacefully there, undisturbed. Trying not to disturb it I snapped six different pictures of it hoping it wouldn’t fly away. It didn’t budge. After taking the pictures I went back to my business and later it was gone.
My cousin, Becky in Michigan had been emailing me back and forth and when I told her about the butterfly she said, “Do you think it could be a sign? Do you think it could be your Mom coming to say goodbye to you?” I thought her words sounded crazy and never gave it a thought. But later, when I found out from my sister, Debra that Mom had been lying on her Hospice bed in the living room of her home at the same time the butterfly came, for hours and hours so peacefully without any morphine, sleeping like a baby; I thought how her description fit the butterfly’s aura. Nothing could have disturbed it. It lie there so peacefully as if to say, “Everything’s okay”. This is the message that I deciphered from it later when I had time to think about the events that took place. For me, this was my Mom coming back to a place she knew, that her spirit had been before, to say goodbye to me, knowing that my flight overseas wouldn’t make it before her time here on earth was up. This was a gift she gave me to keep for the rest of my life as a sign of her love. Her goodbye message carried on the wings of a butterfly.
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