The Things He Did —And Now I Do Too

This weekend I spent time with family I love dearly, tucked away in the North Carolina mountains where the air is cool and clean and you can hear a pin drop. It was everything I needed—space to breathe, reflect, and reset. Oh, and yes, the shopping helped too.

When I got home, I did something I’ve never done before. I carried my bag straight up to my bedroom and unpacked it. Dirty clothes went into the hamper. Unworn clothes back in their drawers. Toiletries lined up neatly on the bathroom counter.

I caught myself smiling as I moved through each piece, because this was something Eddie always did. No overnight bag lingering by the bed for days. Just knock it out and be done. That was his way.

Lately I’ve noticed more of his ways showing up in mine.

Some are small, almost silly. Like putting the toilet lid down. Not just the seat – Eddie always put the lid down too. I never did that. But the week after he died, I started doing it without thinking. Or how he’d take a paper towel and dry each glass as he unloaded the dishwasher. I used to just shake the water off and call it good. Now I find myself reaching for the towel.

But it’s not just in the silly or mundane things. Eddie’s been showing up in my son too. In the way he responds to me, the little gestures, the timing of things. It’s hard to explain, but it’s unmistakable. There are moments when I feel Eddie’s presence so clearly, not just in memory, but in him. In the way he has told me he feels Eddie urging him to give me a hug at the exact time I was wondering (to myself) if Eddie would be proud of how I’m handling his affairs. In the way he has used comforting words that could easily have come directly from Eddie.

What do you believe?

Everyone has their own beliefs about what happens after death, and how, or if, our loved ones show up. I don’t need anyone else to believe what I do. But I choose to believe Eddie is still here. Not just in my heart, but in these small, sacred spaces. Whether it’s him nudging me to put the toilet lid down or showing up through my (our) son’s quiet grace, I feel him. And that’s enough.

If you’ve felt your person show up in unexpected ways, I’d be honored to hear your story. Or if you can relate, drop a “like”.