White Butterflies

Karma, what you put out to the world comes back to you and then some. Justice, always prevails and the bad guys get what they deserve, that was my belief. A sign of the times showed me humans becoming greedier, callous, selfish and uncaring. Gratitude for the simplest things were taken for granted, as if everything is owed to them. Human interaction being reduced to virtual living and communicating from one technological device to another. The gap between the haves and have-nots gets wider bringing out the worst in both. I kept holding on to hope for the bigger picture to reveal itself during these difficult times but, when my fiancé died, I lost sight of that hope. My rock, best friend, confidant and lover was gone, taken by a hit and run driver. The person who hit him ran off leaving him helpless and bleeding on the crosswalk, he died on arrival to the hospital.

The police arrived at our home to inform me that my fiancé had been hit by a car. I asked if he was all right, could they take me to the hospital. Both officers glanced at each other, the officer standing closest to me answered my question, “Ma’am, I’m sorry he didn’t make it.”

Staring at them in disbelief, I felt a searing blade plunge into my heart, my legs buckled and I fell to the floor. Coming around my head still foggy, the air went out of my lungs, I could barely breathe. The rage in me grew as I learned that it was a hit and run, this person drove off leaving the love of my life on the street like roadkill. It happened in a quiet neighborhood we frequently went for pizza with mostly residential homes more than any businesses. By the time anyone looked out their window the car that hit him was gone. I wanted justice but, it would take time the police said because at the moment there were no witnesses coming forward. 

Months were passing and still no leads or information except the color of the car. My heart was not healing and each day felt heavier than the day before, I feared the pain would never end. I wanted revenge, if the police couldn’t help me I would find this person and bring them to justice myself. 

I knocked on every door of where the accident happened and questioned people if they saw anything. I put up posters offering a reward to any information leading to the person responsible. I was interviewed on my friends podcast, asking the public if anyone knew anything. The police asked me to be patient, affirming they had not forgotten the case it just takes time. They warned me to expect crank calls from crazed listeners of podcasts giving false leads. I didn’t care as long as I kept the story out there in the public’s mind. Someone somewhere will know something and come forward. This person was a killer with no conscience on the loose who could hurt someone else. If it was an accident, they should have stayed to help him. This miscreant left the scene not caring that they left a human being to die.

Broken hearted and drowning in my sorrow, I couldn’t see that I was heading down a merciless road of life filled with hate, rage and anger. Revengeful thoughts consuming my mind would soon make me into the same vile creature that destroyed my life. I couldn’t stop the endless chatter in my head. No one could reach me, I was stuck, until one morning when I went for a walk. The rain began to pour down, a crack of lightening struck across the grey overcast sky following with the loud roar of thunder. I kept walking through the down pour, I welcomed the heavy rain looking up to the sky feeling every drop on my face and body. I found a park bench on the concourse near my home and laid down hoping the pounding of water could wash away my pain, clear me of my sorrow. Emotions building up inside of me strangling my every thought until a barge of tears broke free releasing the sobs within me. Screams echoed though my brain and I wasn’t sure if I was actually screaming or if it was all taking place in my head. Suddenly the rain stopped, as if a faucet had been found and turned off. Still on my back looking up I saw a parting in the dense grayness and caught a glimpse of the sun shining bright. I turned my head slightly to the left, and saw a clear white apparition. As quickly as the gray overcast parted it now closed back up leaving the sun behind and the apparition gone. I sat up pulled a dry Kleenex out of my pocket blowing my nose and wiped my eyes of tears.

Standing now, peering up to the sky again trying to comprehend what happened when several white butterflies appeared flittering all around me. Surrounded by these magical tiny creatures I was in awe of their presence and felt I was witnessing something extraordinary. It was the middle of winter, butterflies usually are in hibernation. There were at least twenty of them surrounding me but, within seconds they dispersed and only one remained by my side. I never seen anything like this before, the remaining white butterfly stopped in mid air, so close I could have touched the wee beauty. Then, as quickly as it appeared the last butterfly flittered away, disappearing before my eyes, leaving me in a calmness I never experienced before.

I thought for a second maybe I imagined it, but knew I hadn’t. I remembered a story my mother read to me when was about seven years old about white butterflies. They were angels sent to earth to give a message of love to the people that see them. When I got home I looked online to find the spiritually meaning when seeing white butterflies. Purity and the soul of a loved one or an angel.

I shared my experience with a few friends but, I could see by their expression they didn’t believe me and thought it was just part of my grieving process. It didn’t matter if they believed me or not, what mattered is what the experience brought about in me. I changed that day, I let the hate go and let the love in. I can’t say that the pain instantly disappeared, or that I let go of wanting justice but, I was no longer filled with hate and vengeance. I believe the spirits were there to tell me faith, love and justice will prevail.

A few weeks after this enlightening experience I received a call from the detective handling the case, the woman responsible for hitting my fiancé turned herself in. She was riddled with guilt and said she could not live with the guilt any longer. Faith, love and justice had prevailed and the true healing of my heart had begun.