A Teacup Filled with Dimes

My mother died less than three months ago. I don't know how I will ever learn to deal with this. My mother was my best friend, my confidante, my protector, my partner in crime. I want to tell her that I have survived these past days, I want her to be proud of me. I want to hear her say, "Oh, honey, I am sooo proud of you. I knew you were strong. I knew you could do it. Almost three months! Good for you!" I will never hear those words again, in any context. What in God's name am I going to do without her?

During my mother's wake, someone mentioned that she believed that when your loved one who has passed on is thinking of you, you will find a dime. I thought it was a quaint story, one that was obvious, but well-intentioned.

The last night of my mother's wake was difficult for everyone. My sons were very upset and too sad to feel embarrassed about crying openly. My younger son, 17, left the apartment to smoke a cigarette and pull himself together. He found a dime. It meant a lot to him. He felt comforted by it.

I began to think it over. Why not? If my mother is watching over us, she knows that this story was passed to us. Why wouldn't she, then, use that very vehicle to reassure us? I needed to believe that my mother would reach out to my son to comfort him.

I have been finding dimes everywhere. Some I find when I really need them, some I find out of the blue. It is curious to me, but I need them. I really need these dimes. I've prayed and begged God for a sign that my mother is okay, that she is at peace. These dimes may be a sign that I am losing it, but I am choosing to believe that they are a sign that I am going to be okay, because my mother is okay. So I am saving these dimes in a teacup that my mother bought for me. Selfishly, I wish my mother were here but if these dimes mean that she is finally at peace, I will treasure them.