I'd just returned home this morning, in a craggy mood in the anticipation of a potentially difficult call I had to make, opened my front door - there was nothing there on the dark concrete floor below. I turned to do something else, turned back and this feather was just there, across my threshold as if carefully placed. About 7 inches long, perfectly formed, silvery grey and off white. No sign of a bird.
Now to clarify, I am definitely not one of those people who sees a white feather and thinks, oh it's a message from the angels. I'm more inclined to think it's a feathery offering from a bird midflight (thank you birdy) or a fox who's caught a bird and spat out the leftovers. Sorry, not very mystical of me.
This feather stopped me midflow and suddenly. Yes, it could have fallen right at that moment from a pigeon up above. Yet it's careful positioning saying 'no way are you not going to notice me' befuddled me in that very moment, creating a gentle sense of wonder within.
My paternal Grandma immediately came in to my mind and I flooded with a sense of calm. Was this a message from Grandma, who I met only once in India when I was 6 years old? My legendry Grandma who died at 98 years old whilst washing her face...or was it whilst reading her Sikh scriptures? Or in her sleep? The same Grandma who came to visit me the night before Diwali? When I told Dad the day after Diwali that Grandma had visited me, he just nodded and said, yes she does visit you. And we carried on as normal.
I do believe in magic. I do believe this feather was a message from Grandma reassuring me that everything is going to be okay with Dad.
I made that phone call with feather in hand and deep breaths. A call to ask the NHS folk to bring Dad home urgently. He needs to be home and we want him home. No more delays. Enough. It went effortlessly.
And 4 hours later I got a call back. Dad is coming home this week.
Thank you Grandma.