I hadn't seen my father in over a year when he made his transition. He was living in Mexico when he became acutely ill and died. It was unexpected.
There was no time to visit and no way to speak with him before he passed.
1,400 miles away his spirit slipped away and his body ceased being. That was it.
Later that night, shocked and grief-stricken, my brother, stepmother and I consoled each other on a WhatsApp call. That's when I got a download from my Dad. He had a lot of messages. One, in particular stuck with me.
He said, "I'll be in the sunflowers..." He went on to show me how all energy is connected - how time and space, the past, present, and future occurs across dimensions at the same time continuously - there is no separation.
He showed me the face of a sunflower. The preciousness of the color yellow and that sunflowers actually do dance in the sun. I understood he was with me. Anytime I wanted to "see" him, I could look at a sunflower and he'd be there, nodding, smiling, loving, beaming...
I told my brother and stepmother what I heard. My stepmother gasped, "sunflowers are your father's favorite." We laughed and cried.
What followed was kind of miraculous! Over the next few days, weeks, months, and years - I have been endlessly showered with sunflowers.
They have shown up as gifts from friends (who didn't know about the message). Tagged as photos on social media, pop up as random pieces of artwork, and my favorite - the unexpected fields upon fields upon fields of endless sunflowers on my drive from New Mexico to Colorado. I can't forget the rows of giant sunflowers gracing random yards all over Denver that same trip.
Then there was Mexico City.
My brother, his family, and I traveled to Mexico. We spent time in our family's home and later traveled to Mexico City together in preparation for our departure back to the U.S... It was the first time we'd all been together in more then a decade.
After a long morning of driving, we arrived in Mexico City. We piled out of the car and unloaded ourselves into the hotel. We turned into the lobby. There we were met by a table of sunflowers. Dad's love beamed from each one of the yellow and black faces - letting us know he was there - enjoying the family trip with us.
This short account is not the end of sunflowers in my life - it is a slice of my experience - a small window into the power of spirit, the time-space continuum, and the expansiveness of the love our ancestors have for us - even after death, always, for infinity.
Our departed loved ones are always as close as sunflowers.