Make ur mother’s smile

My mother was my best friend. She loved
cardinals, the male red ones. When she got sick
with pancreatic cancer and knew death was near,
she told me to always look for the red cardinal—
that would be her. I never paid too much
attention to that statement; I was too busy
becoming an adult. Twenty-five years later,
every time I feel at my wits’ end, there is a
cardinal flying past me or in a nearby tree. Is it
coincidence, or my mother, all these years later,
letting me know that everything will be OK? I’ll
take the latter.