There were feathers everywhere, a fact that astounds even me—the most faithful of believers. At the bottom of a basket I had cleared of old mail and catalogs. In the corner of the where is that thimble? drawer. Stuffed in the pencil cup on Dad’s crowded desk. Out on the sidewalk, where we girls wheeled the wheelchair for an afternoon stroll.
Then on the drive back, I swear. A billboard. With a gigantic feather.
I unpacked immediately when I got home; I cannot tell you why. (That is most certainly not my regular routine.) But on this night I lifted the empty suitcase to carry it toward the stairs, and there, just underneath, refusing to be denied as it contrasted against the the dark wood floor—one more sweet love offering.
Hello guardian angel. I know you are there.
I am so, so grateful.