In the winter of 2018, my sister’s husband, Brad suddenly and unexpectedly died in front of her when she arrived home from a work trip. Hours after it happened, I will never forget watching her shock and grief as she knelt down howling on her wooden living room floor. I squeezed my eyes shut as she placed her hands on the exact spot she watched paramedics try to resuscitate him and eventually call his death.
When my sister traveled again, she was terrified something bad would happen. That she or someone else would die and the awful news would be waiting for her when she landed. One day my sister decided to push through. Shaking while at the curbside check-in at LAX, the most concrete jungle of all concrete jungles, she saw a Monarch butterfly. I imagine a stillness in the air as it floated across this unlikely place for a delicate thing of nature who feeds on flowers and greenery to survive.
Shortly after the incident, she went to a medium who talked about butterflies in relation to Brad. My sister moved to a new job and didn’t realize until later that her new company’s name happens to have the word Monarch in it. Through now, my sister often sees the orange and black winged creature. Since 2019, every time I see a Monarch butterfly I think of Brad.
Here’s the thing. When Brad walked among us on Earth, I never would have compared him to a butterfly. He was a large man. He stood 6 feet 6 inches tall (198.12 cm). He had a booming voice and laughter that filled the room.
But, as I thought more deeply about the symbol and the man, Brad’s presence can evoke similar feelings when we see a butterfly. Both can stop us in our tracks when we see them. This butterfly reminds me that when we are at our lowest — gripping the hardwood floor trying to understand our pain — that we have signs to lift ourselves out of the depths. We can travel up and forward.
We live in a world of emojis and avatars to express ourselves. In Chinese culture, it is believed the traits of animals assigned to each year will be embodied in people, according to their sign. Some of us read horoscopes and make sense of ourselves and others with zodiac signs. Symbolism in stories allow us to better understand characters and narratives with its visual and sensory element.
It got me thinking about how, in my kids hippie school, I was gifted an experience of their teacher giving them a symbol.
In my kids’ Waldorf pre-school instead of names on their items and cubbies, they were given symbols by their teacher based on their personalities. Some new children would wait two to three months for their symbol as their teacher better understood our kids. I feel like we have such few positive surprises in our adult lives and I loved the anticipation around the symbol reveal.
The symbol can be interpreted in many ways.
For example, my friends were confused, maybe even a little bummed about their son’s symbol. When his peers were assigned typical “strong” things of nature, like bears and oak trees and birds, his seemed like a lone depressing vegetable that tastes like dirt. A beet.
I remember telling them I thought he had one of the best symbols. A beet is a root vegetable, which evokes the feeling of their son being a very grounded person. And he is! While some may think a beet stains your fingers and clothes I interpreted this trait as him having an impressionable and lasting personality.
Examining traits and symbols can add beautiful meaning and understanding of ourselves and others.
My first born’s symbol was a chamomile flower. My daughter has always been a calm soul. She can also get excited and talk a bunch and be silly, like sprouts of wildflower spreading its seeds and pollen. While her emotions are strong, she is often attuned to her feelings, and of others. She is also gentle and delicate, like this tiny flower.
I was so intrigued and touched by the preschool symbol phenomenon that the reveal for my son’s symbol was more exciting than finding out he was a boy when he was born. His teacher was nervous about telling me.
But she was relieved to see tears of joy when I found out he was named… wait for it…
A pill bug! Yup, a bug. A freaking insect. Technically, a pill bug (or roly poly for my American readers) is a crustacean on land. Does that make it any better?
Sure, I could have been offended she picked a bug that eats its own poop. I chose to look beyond this idea. Pill bugs in the play yard are the most loved bug among children. I like to think my son was an approachable little human among his peers.
And how many times as a kid have you marveled at the idea of this multi-gilled bug rolling itself into a ball for protection? How many of you collected this little harmless bug in your hands and giggled as it tickled your fingers? My son is similar, a creature of thick skin. He also has a good understanding of himself and knows when things don’t feel right or seem dangerous. Like a pill bug, he’s a resourceful kid who loves to scavenge. My kid, like this mini yard creature, literally loves to play in dirt. And I love that about him.
As I contemplated the ideas of signs and symbols this week, I was delighted to see and think of them everywhere. I invite you to do the same!
Growing up, my husband’s grandmother called him Buffy, short for buffalo, because he was a bulky kid. It’s still fitting. He’s a large man with a gentle personality.
When I see a clothes iron, I think of my late dad. He was hard as steel, stoic and a man of solitude. Plus, this military man was obsessed with ironed clothes.
My mom is a red rose. She looks amazing in red and she is a woman of strong feelings. I have childhood memories of her tending to her rose bushes and I’m in awe of her doing this now because how did she have time to take care of roses with a full time job and three kids? The thorns represent how tough my mom is and a lifetime of protecting herself from the hard realities of life.
I encourage you to think about the signs and symbols in your life. It’s a great conversation starter.
3 prompts for you this week!
Send a text, DM, e-mail to your friends and family. Ask them what symbol they think of when they think of you. Tell them what symbol you think of for them.
What symbols are meaningful to you?
What’s a symbol you think of for yourself? I’ve been mulling it over all week and haven’t thought of one yet but I can tell you it’s a great way to see and dissect yourself. Reminder to be gentle and kind to yourself!
Hawk 🦅 bc fierce, self-sufficient and feral. Also, a bit awks... x
This is such a beautiful post... my heart ached reading the experience your sister went through. In the UK pill bugs are called woodlouse... I think they are the same anyway from your description... my brother loved them and used to make them pets when we were a kid! I still think of him every time I see one!
I adore that idea from the school... how beautiful. The Robin has always been a symbol and sign for me... I dreamt of it the night my Nanna passed away! I’m going to contemplate some more. Thank you xxx