When my grandfather passed I found a butterfly
Yellow and small hovering around my shoulders, lightly kissing my cheeks with every flutter
I walked five feet, then ten. Bidding farewell to my new friend.
And yet, the friend followed me no matter how far I strayed
And so I returned home to my mother, the yellow butterfly following behind
Then her eyes widened with shock, and, a touch of happiness
Her smile turned bittersweet as she pulled me into her arms
'Look dear,' she said, pointing at my new friend.
'There's your grandfather, he's come to visit.' She reached out with her fingers and the butterfly settled on them.
'How could that be grandpapa, Mama?' I asked, curious as ever.
'When a loved one passes, their spirit visit us in the form of butterflies.'

Twenty years since. butterflies have followed my every step.
I've begun to wonder if they announce the passing of a loved one or prepare me for my own