This Wednesday, Bernie told me he has cancer. Even though he’s 89, the news hit me hard.

His wife, Mary, was one of the most special souls I’ve ever met. I first met her when she came in for a haircut — and over the eight years I knew her, I realized she was an angel sent into my life exactly when I needed her most. During some of the hardest seasons of parenting teenagers, she showed up for me with wisdom, laughter, and so much grace.

Before she passed, Mary asked me to look after her husband, Bernie. I promised her I would — and I’ve been visiting him every Wednesday (other than the few times I’ve been out of town) ever since she was called to heaven.

It’s hard to describe the connection you share with certain people — when you just get each other. Mary was kind, funny, giving, and full of light. She shared so much with me: her stories, her faith, her handmade cards, her jewelry — even my first-ever diamond tennis bracelet, which I’ll always treasure.

In her final days, she asked me to make sure her belongings found new homes — with people who needed them or would truly appreciate them. Craft supplies, kitchen gadgets, jewelry, home décor, greeting cards she made herself — all pieces of her creativity and heart. I carefully shared them with family, friends, and neighbors who could use them, because that’s exactly what she wanted. She believed in giving, in spreading joy, and in letting love continue long after we’re gone.

And it really made me think — at the end of our lives, our stuff is just that… stuff. It’s what we pour into others, the kindness we share, and the love we give that truly lasts. Mary lived that truth every single day.

Mary endured more than most people will ever know, yet she never lost her smile. I believe she’s still watching over Bernie, my family, and me — guiding us all with that same gentle spirit she carried through life. Over time, Bernie has become like family to us. My husband, Johnny, and our kids have all gotten to know him too. We’ve shared coffee, laughter, and simple conversation that always seems to leave us a little better than before.

On my drive home tonight, after hearing Bernie’s news, I suddenly realized what day it was — October 22nd. My angel number has always been 22. I even got a tiny number two tattooed on my ear when I turned 40 — on 2-22-22. To me, that number has always been a sign that I’m being guided and protected — that God and my angels are near.

For those who may not know, an angel number is believed to be a message from above — a gentle nudge from God or our angels reminding us that we’re not alone. The number 22 is often called a “master number,” symbolizing faith, balance, divine alignment, and the power to turn dreams into reality. It’s a sign that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be, guided and supported by something greater.

Seeing the 22 appear again on the very day Bernie told me felt like no coincidence. It was a quiet reminder that Mary is still here — watching, comforting, and sending strength from above.

I said goodbye to Mary for the last time on my 41st birthday, as Johnny and I drove to Wichita. I knew in my heart it would be our final goodbye. The tears came then, but so did peace.

As I think about both Mary and Bernie, I’m reminded that love is eternal. The people who touch our hearts never really leave — they just show up in new ways when we need them most.

✨ I hope this reminds someone out there to slow down and notice the angels in your own life. They might not have wings — they might come as a friend, a neighbor, or a stranger who shows up at the exact moment you need them most. Pay attention. God’s reminders of love are all around us.

🤍

Stay Rosy, Amber 🤍🌹

#Faith #Friendship #Family #AngelsAmongUs #DivineTiming #LegacyOfLove #PayAttention #HalfwayToAnywhereYouPutYourMindTo