The Sign

As we sat on the boardwalk bench taking in the summer sunshine and the Atlantic Ocean, it felt like well-needed therapy. "I need a sign," she said. And though there had been many, she needed her very own. "I just need to know he's alright, that he's in Heaven," my mom continued. I could see the tears welling up just a tiny bit. "Oh, he is, Mom," I said, trying to hold back my own and also little surprised she didn't have the same faith that she had ingrained in me for my 46 years. To me, it was certain, no doubts. If you treat people kindly and spread the love, Heaven is where you go. So Heaven it was, in my heart, for sure. We both stared at the ocean; the last time we had been there together, we were all together...the whole gang, plus. Now, it was just a few of us reliving the memories of last summer, while creating some new ones, like this one. "Let's head back to the house and check in with Eileen," my mom said, still staring at the waves.

My Mom's cousin, Eileen, was vacationing with her whole family that week too in Point Pleasant. As true O'Connor's, they were full of fun and funny as hell, so we were all excited to see them. "Come on over for dinner tonight, we've got this great big Victorian house with a pool, so tell the kids to bring their bathing suits." We were on it.

"Remember that great house Danny stayed in last year? That was awesome." My sister, also an Eileen, said as she hung up the phone with my mom's cousin. That previous summer, Danny, along with his best friend Kathy, her sister, Marcie and their kids all made the trip out from Cleveland to the Jersey shore to spend together with my whole family. It was a once in a lifetime trip that we took when Danny was feeling good in between chemo treatments. It was a gift to us all.

We decided we would meet up with cousin Eileen and her family that evening for dinner and drinks at their house. We were all looking forward to it; the kids were looking forward to swimming and a cookout, and the adults for some great company and a couple of drinks. "Anyone want to walk the boardwalk with me," my sister, Eileen asked. "I'm in!" I yelled from the bedroom. The more I'm outdoors, the better, especially when I'm at the shore. "Let's do this!"

As we made our way out the door, the whole gang joined us and we were on our way down the Point Pleasant boardwalk, as we have done hundreds of times over the years. It was a beautiful day and we were all pumped for some good old fashion beach fun. As we took in all the sounds and smells we found ourselves at the end of the touristy part of the boardwalk. “Isn’t this the street where Danny and his friends had stayed last year?” I asked. “I think so,” replied Eileen.

Danny's death was still fresh in our hearts and coming back to the place where we all had last seen him full of life came with a mix of emotions, unique to each of us. The one common memory was the laugh. Danny had a booming, heart-soaked laugh that was beyond contagious, it was healing. It was a laugh that made you feel...it made you know...that whatever you were going through at the time; that you would survive, that you would be OK...that you could still laugh. The connection between all of us who knew him was that laugh...it's what keeps us smiling when the memories simmer up.

As we walked up that street, the laugh lingered, but so did the realization that he was gone from this earth. There was a silence amongst all of us as we walked, hoping that we were right and that this was the street, but also afraid of what emotion might hit as the house stood before us. We walked several blocks and I found myself looking far ahead at the houses hoping to prepare myself before we got there. "Wait, stop for a minute," I heard Eileen say. "This is the street. I think the O’Connor’s are staying in the same house. Cousin Eileen said it was a green Victorian with a pool." "Yes,” I answered, “but you said they had a screened-in porch and Danny's house didn't have that." "Yeah, that's true," Eileen said, somewhat disappointed, somewhat relieved. We continued walking, me looking about five houses ahead to prepare. I saw the house, or what looked like the house and I turned to Eileen, "Isn't that it?" I asked, pointing ahead. We both looked at each other and then at my mom. There was the house: a beautiful, three-floor, hunter green Victorian...with a newly renovated wraparound…screened-in porch. At the same moment it hit us, my mom's cousin Eileen, stood up from a chair on the porch and yelled, "Well, look who’s here!"

The feeling I got walking up the porch stairs to the oversized front door stopped me in my tracks. "I have such chills," I whispered to Eileen. "Me too," she whispered back. As Eileen and my mom shared the news, I took in the house. The kitchen: where we all sat laughing; the dining room: where we drank too much and told stories for hours; the backyard: where the kids all hung out in the pool. I had taken so many photos in that house the previous summer that the memories were still so fresh. Dan was here with us this time last year. The emotions started to flow in and I felt Danny again with us in that house.

"Mom," I said walking back to her. "Your sign?" I excitedly asked. "This is really amazing isn't it?" she replied, "Yes, he's telling us he's with us. I just wish I knew he was in Heaven."

On the boardwalk earlier that day it didn't click, but it did then. It wasn't that she needed to know Danny was with us and watching over us. The sign my mother needed would tell her someone was watching over HIM. I quickly swallowed the lump that formed in my throat.

My mom opted to stay downstairs, when we were invited to walk around the second level. My sister went into the room that Danny stayed in. “This is so wild,” she told my mom’s cousin. The look on my sister’s face took me back to the days of witnessing the selfless care she offered my brother in his final days. We all contributed in ways where you would have thought we went through it before, it flowed naturally, it was effortless love. But Eileen took charge of Danny’s care like a pro…recognizing his needs before becoming apparent to the rest of us. She protected and directed. I was seeing my big sister like I had never before: trying to hold on so tight to our brother, but also gracefully accepting the natural order of things. Watching the bond of Eileen and Danny over the years was something special, and in those final days I saw that bond reform into something that was beyond this earth…it wasn’t ending in death, it was transcending.

Thankfully, my mom’s cousin knocked me out of my thoughts when she grabbed my arm and said, “I was just saying that I felt like there was a presence in this house. It actually freaked me out a little…but now I know it’s just Danny hanging out with us!” What a gift.

We went back downstairs and agreed we would all regroup that evening back at the house for a BBQ. It felt perfect knowing we would be back to hang out in that house…it now felt like an old friend.

Wine in hand, surrounded by family, Top 40 music playing, smells of ribs cooking, kids splashing in the pool, people laughing so hard they were crying…I felt awesome in that moment. Standing in the backyard of that three-storied, green Victorian, I felt blessed and at peace. It was the type of moment we could all use a little more of. Watching my sons in the pool with their cousins, my niece sitting in a chaise lounge with her family’s arms wrapped around her, laughing, smiling. It was a bit of Heaven.

As I was talking to one of my cousins, I heard my sister Eileen call me. I was already in tune with what she was going to say. We looked at each other, once again getting the chills. It was my mom who asked, “Do you hear what’s playing on the radio?” We stood and listened to the song that came over the outdoor sound system. What Top 40 station plays Etta James? This song…we played for Danny when he was passing. This song…we used to accompany his memory video. We knew it was Danny reminding us he was there. But he was more than just there, he was answering our mom.

When the song was done playing, it was my sister who nonchalantly suggested we join her in the ladies room. Before even closing the door, Eileen had the lyrics to the song pulled up on her phone. As she read the words to Etta James’ song, “At Last,” I realized I had not told her about the conversation I had earlier that day with our mom; about her wish to know that Danny was at peace in Heaven.

In that moment, together, the four of us stood in the bathroom of that beautiful three-storied, green Victorian. Eileen began to read the last lines of the song, and I let the tears flow as I looked over at my mother’s smiling, nodding, tear-streaked face.

“You smiled, you smiled Oh, and then the spell was cast And here we are in Heaven for you are mine... At Last”