When I updated the blog and got the new revamped logo, I promised to share the story of the Butterfly. There are some people who have known me for years, and would know that I’ve always loved butterflies. My first car was a 1972 purple VW Bug and the interior was covered in butterfly stickers. It goes further than that though.
My Grandmother - who we always called Grandma Jones (though that wasn’t her real name) - was diagnosed with cancer before I was born. She had been told that she had just a few years at the most, and that she would have to go through extensive chemotherapy in order to continue her life. She began treatments, and suffered unhappily through the effects that the chemo had on her body. Eleven years later, much longer than anyone had expected her to live, she had enough of the treatments and decided to fulfill her own personal dream.
She contacted her doctors and advised that she would no longer be pursuing treatment of any kind. She then packed up all her belongings, and bought a house on Martha’s Vineyard by herself. Within a few months, she acquired a puppy to keep her company. He was appropriately named Shadow. Grandma Jones and Shadow quickly became a part of the island community. She lived in Vineyard Haven and spent a lot of her time reading unique finds from Bunches of Grapes bookstore. She got to know the ferry captain by name. Most of all though, despite all odds being against her, she thrived on the Island where she continued to live for 8 more years - the best years of her life. She was independant, and she was happy.
Grandma Jones was a beacon of strength in the face of her illness, and most of all she pursued her dream although it defied all odds.
When she passed away, we all traveled to the Vineyard to pay our respects and watch over her burial in an island cemetery. It was a warm spring day, and after the services I went outside at her house to stand on the porch looking into the woods behind the house when suddenly a butterfly flitted over and landed on my arm. I knew in an instant that it was her, just stopping by, just making sure we were all okay.
Since then, there have been too many times to count where in a moment of turmoil, or on the crux of a tough decision my thoughts have been interrupted by a lone butterfly flitting in front of my face. The butterfly is about pursuing my dream, and believing - despite the odds. It’s about listening to my her when she said “Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t”.
