OK, so it’s a little lopsided, but I like it anyway.

I didn’t notice the rock until a few days after Bill died.

How did it get there? Who put it there?

I hoped the rock was a sign from Bill — his way of letting me know he’s ‘OK.’

Yup, even earnest believers hanker for a sign — some evidence of an afterlife.

But a reality check tells me a friend or neighbor placed the rock atop the post. At first, I thought ‘I’ll ask my neighbors about the rock.’ But on second thought, that felt awkward. I didn’t want to go door-to-door knocking for a miracle.

I’m embarrassed to tell you that after tossing the rock situation around in my head for a while, I went to the mailbox and tossed the rock on the ground.

‘OK, Bill,’ I said. ‘If this is your sign, would you please put the rock back up?’

Well, this was a tall order and the rock remained on the ground until I put it back in its place.

Why did I ask for such an outrageous sign? Probably because I find it hard to picture the life to come. I thought a sign or miracle might help.

Had I forgotten that extraordinary miracles are hard to come by — but everyday miracles are right in front of us? I’d missed the fact that some kind soul honored Bill’s death with a marker. Yes, I’d over looked the everyday miracle of kindness.

I know that miracles aren’t magic tricks — illusions with rocks or rabbits appearing and disappearing. When true miracles occur, they point to something larger than ourselves.

Since Bill’s death I realize that everyday miracles come in the form of casserole dishes, soups, cards and kind words — all pointing toward love.

Someday I’ll wake up and the rock will be gone. Either blown off its post or picked up and held by a young child — who for a few minutes — will admire this natural miracle.

Bill would like that.”