The portal of signs - Ciara Collins-Atkins Lived Experience

I see the shape of 23

I do not search

It finds me

On a bus in a book

That I’m reading in bed

On the bill that I get

When I’ve finished my coffee

The number I see

When I look up and away

In a hard conversation

A door, a house, a letterbox

The exact moment I look up

The countdown to green

When I stop and look at the lights

The name of a song

Simply;

23.

The moments I desperately

Dare to request one

It’s there.

Are they a sign?

I try to deny it

I just don’t believe it

But ever since 23

The worst year of my life

I’ve noticed this number

23 the day of my birthday

23 my mama’s mum past

23 death birth death

23 the cycle

We cannot escape

Has it joined the list

Of things I cannot unsee?

I pray it evolves

Into something of comfort

23 feel less alone

23 the right next thing to do

23 you’re next to me

23 I love you

23 don’t forget me

23 I never will

23 when no one else gets it

23 I open again and again

23 please help me

23 I can’t do this without you

23 I’ll live for you and me now

23 this forever.

A whole world of desperation opened up for me when I lost one someone I love beyond measure to suicide. Desperate for any way for it not to be the end. And that’s when the world of signs opened up to me. A way to know he’s okay. A way to know he’s close. I didn’t go looking for it. And I certainly wasn’t going to accept any random feather, butterfly or bird. And I’m not saying they are not signs, it’s just that I’m a skeptic and I don’t believe things easily.

And I still don’t know what to think. But I do know that this number has been following me. And the few times I’ve asked for it, it’s appeared in the most unexpected places. And in those moments, sometimes for only a few seconds, I am in front of an inner altar, a shrine I carry inside always. My breath alters, my heart reminds me of the person I’m forever missing. And I say his name. Out loud or in my head. When I say it, I see his face. And I hope it’s a sign he’s near.

I don’t want people to tell me it doesn’t matter if it’s not real, as long as it brings comfort. No. I need it to be real. And I know I’ll never know for certain, but right now every time I see 23, I hope it’s a sign. Maybe one day I’ll know in my bones, like I’ve heard other people say, who are later down the line than me, that for them it is for sure. It’s early days for me on this path of grief, but my desire is to feel comforted in those moments because I know, not with my mind, but in my heart that it’s a sign from him.