We passed this sign every day on our way to Disneyland. It caught my breath in my throat every single time. And every single time I passed it, I thought we should get a picture of the boys under that sign. 

Every time I thought that, I didn’t want to do it, because Grant’s boys, don’t have Grant.  Yet, it seemed like a sign.  Well… obviously.  So there are all 4 of Grant’s boys, under a sign that says, “Grant’s boys.”  It’s kinda funny.  

I smile.  That’s what it’s really for I think.  Me.  One of those things meant to be just because it’s me.  A little message from Grant to me that somehow he’s still around.  You see, I get to choose how to interpret the things around me.  

Everything is as amazing and wonderful and helpful and right as we chose to interpret. Any spin, every perspective, all decisions about meaning come from us and our chosen filters for whatever fact is reality.

A blade of grass growing is a useful plant, an allergen, science in action or even a small wonder. The eyes of a child see it with amazement, but as an adult we walk right past or even complain about it. It reality doesn’t change, only our decision about how we see it.

  A wise person once said: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” ― Albert Einstein. I’m pretty sure he had a few good ideas to share.

I like to live as if everything is a miracle, so it is. In fact, I remember a conversation Grant and I had one day in the family room.  He said, “If I die before you, I’ll do whatever it takes to send you a message. 

I’ll find out whatever the rules or whatever the boundaries are. I’ll figure out how to push them, test them and hack them to get a message to you.  Maybe this is one of them, I figure. 

Maybe he caused that to be painted that just before we arrived in the area?  Maybe no one else sees this except for us, cause it’s for us, for the boys.  I keep waiting for those messages. 

I think to myself as I’m taking this picture of the boys under this perfectly suited, perfectly timed, perfectly placed sign that is right in our path, impossible to miss or ignore. It’s a really cool coincidence.

And maybe it really just is serendipitous. I’m sure you’re over there figuring it out as fast as you can; death hacking, wherever you are.  For today, I’ll take this one as a message for me and for the boys.  Grant’s boys. 

A little miracle that reminds me that somehow you’re still here, still around and hanging out trying to keep that promise to send me a message now and then. Miraculous.