Every year, my father and I celebrated the birthday of the house he built; a home that became the heart of our family and a symbol of my parents’ perseverance, hope, and love. Today, I remembered that day with a mixture of joy and a deep ache in my heart. There was no one beside me to share the memory. My parents are now in another world, and so is the house.
This year, as the day came to a close, a long and difficult journey also reached its culmination. A chapter that had remained pending for years finally came to its natural conclusion, allowing me to quietly fulfill a long-standing commitment that had long been waiting for its moment. The journey I had walked through myself had been marked by painful experiences, some of the deepest wounds coming from my very own people; those closest to my heart. It carried moments of insensitive decisions and actions, uncertainty, disappointment, and emotions that ran deep. Yet, through it all, the journey tested my strength, resilience, and faith. That everything came together on the birthday of the house made the timing feel profoundly meaningful.
In the days leading up to this anniversary, nature offered quiet moments that invited reflection: a rainbow after the rain, hibiscus flowers blooming in abundance, a dream of fish swimming freely in a river with my mother in the background, and the unexpected sight of a wild turkey taking flight.
Across many spiritual traditions, a rainbow symbolizes hope and promise after hardship. Flowers remind us of both beauty and the fleeting nature of life. Flowing water and fish often represent renewal, abundance, and the soul’s journey, while a wild turkey taking flight can symbolize freedom, courage, and release. Watching the turkey rise from the earth and settle among the branches felt like a quiet reminder that one can rise when the moment calls. Sometimes strength is not measured by how far we fly, but by knowing when to lift ourselves, where to find rest, and when to see life from a higher perspective.
I cannot say with certainty what these moments meant. Perhaps they were simply beautiful coincidences. Yet, through my own spiritual journey, I choose to believe they were gentle affirmations; quiet reminders that after every difficult season comes renewal, and that even the hardest journeys eventually find their peace.
As another birthday of the house passed, it felt as though one chapter had quietly closed. The house my father built gave us far more than shelter. It gave us a sense of belonging, cherished memories, and values that continue to endure long after the walls are gone and the deeds have changed hands.
Sometimes the universe speaks not in words, but through nature. Whether these were signs or simply moments of grace, they came at the close of a journey that had tested me in many ways. I received them with gratitude, carrying forward not the weight of what was lost, but the quiet peace of what had finally come to rest.
RidewithTia 