11/25/2025
Reflection Corner
“THE REMOTE, THE DRAGONFLY, AND THE REMINDER”
By Teresa Courtemanche, Co-Facilitator, HSSG
Sometimes the signs we receive aren’t grand or dramatic—they show up quietly, woven into the
ordinary moments of our day. And if we’re paying attention, even a lost remote can become a
reminder that our loved ones are still near.
The other night, my husband Raymond and I realized our brand-new TV remote had disappeared.
We searched everywhere with no luck. I’ll admit, I was irritated—at him, at myself, at the fact that
we seem to lose things more often these days. I ended up watching a show while he fell asleep
immediately, snoring so loudly I kept nudging him like I was trying to reboot an old computer. And to
be fair…I had TWO cups of coffee mixed with hot chocolate and topped with whipped cream at an
earlier meeting, so I was wide awake long after he drifted off.
The next morning, still annoyed, I stripped the bed and looked again. Nothing. On our usual
two-mile walk, I listened to an audiobook called Signs—a book about the ways our loved ones
reach out to us after they’ve crossed over. The cover has a dragonfly right in the center, which felt
like a little wink from my son Matt, who so often shows up to me as a dragonfly or the numbers 222.
As I listened to stories of parents longing for reassurance from their children, I felt that familiar
ache…and that familiar knowing. Our children, our loved ones—they find ways to touch our lives, if
we allow ourselves to stay open.
So right there on the walking path, I said,
“Okay Matt…show me a sign. Help us find the remote.”
When we got home, I went to the bathroom and Raymond went upstairs—our routine. Moments
later I heard him call out, “Guess what?!”
I didn’t even have to ask.
He found the remote.
I felt tears rise immediately. I thanked God, and I thanked Matt. I told Raymond I already knew
before he even said the words—because I could feel it.
Here’s what that moment reminded me of, and what I hope it reminds you of:
Our loved ones are not gone.
They don’t disappear. They shift. They transform.
And they continue to move toward us—through signs, through symbols, through the quiet nudges in
moments that seem small but carry so much meaning.
Sometimes the sign looks like a dragonfly.
Sometimes it’s a song.
And sometimes… it’s a remote control appearing exactly when we ask for help.
May we all stay open to the ways love continues to reach us.
