Throughout all of these experiences of contact with my mother, my husband Bill kept asking the same question: Why doesn’t she send me a message? Didn’t she like me? He also felt angry because he wanted her to help him plan the landscaping for the yard, and instead she chose to cross over. I’m sure she would’ve loved that if her health had stayed longer. And I’m also sure she can still help him if he learns to open himself up to this kind of input, which is entirely possible for him as he already has very accurate intuitive hunches. Around the time of the first anniversary of her death, Bill got what he asked for. He went outside one day and noticed a blue butterfly in front of him as he stood on the back sidewalk. He thought this was kind of strange because we do not have any butterfly bushes planted yet and it is rare to see them in the yard. The sight of the blue one freaked him out – he remembered my blue butterfly stories and how they were confirmed by Denise Lescano during my reading. The butterfly flew away towards the driveway. My mother’s car – the car that she died in – was parked there as by this time my father had moved to an assisted living apartment near our home. He followed the butterfly around my mother’s car and it vanished by the passenger side door (the seat she was sitting in when she died).