Easter Blessings-from Heaven's "hi"

Easter was going to be different this year. We all knew that. Two empty seats at the table—my dad’s and my brother’s—were enough to shift the air around the holiday. Grief has a way of rearranging the familiar. We simply couldn't go on as usual, cooking the same meal, saying the same prayers, siting at the same table…not when everything felt so altered. Not this year, and not this soon. We still needed to celebrate Easter and the glorious meaning of the holiday, but decided to do so in a different format this year; allowing necessary grace, and offering words of comfort, to one another.

Early this morning, my other brother sent a sweet Easter text to my sister and me. She replied with a message of her own, and I responded with a video. In it, I shared not just the love of the day but also the heavy ache in my heart—the sadness of knowing my dad and brother wouldn’t be here to celebrate the resurrection with us.

Immediately after I hit send, something strange happened.

The neighbor’s car alarm started going off. Not in the usual way with its steady, repetitive blare, but in a series of long and short pulsing honks. It reminded me of Morse code. At first, I thought I was imagining it—but it just kept going. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I recorded it and sent it to my brother and sister. They agreed—this felt like a sign.

The alarm would stop when the neighbor came out to silence it, only to start again minutes later—same odd pattern, like a message being repeated. A message refusing to be ignored.

Of all the signs in the world, why this seemingly coded one? Here’s where it gets even more incredible: my dad was a top security Morse code operator in the Army. My brother also served in the Army. Both served in Germany, as did my surviving brother. Joining forces in the most literal sense possible? Perhaps. Sounds like them.

So then I did what any curious daughter would do. I ran the audio through a Morse code translator. The message? The letters “H” and “I” over and over.

Hi.

Simple. Persistent. Clear.

Maybe it was just a coincidence, which I am sure many of you reading this are thinking, but maybe not. Afterall, my name is Heidi... which also requires the letters "h" and "i". Maybe it really was a message, and specifically for me. Maybe they were saying hi from Heaven. And the fact that the alarm couldn’t be silenced? Well that certainly felt like them too. My dad was the kind of person who wouldn’t let you miss a message, especially if it mattered. And my brother was as persistent and stubborn as anyone could be.

I know how easy it is to want to see signs—to look for meaning where there may be none. But this wasn’t a sign I went searching for. It came for me. It made itself known with stubborn insistence, like only my dad and brother could. It found me on a day that felt heavy and hollow, and it filled that hollow space with warmth, connection, and hope.

I’m grateful for that.

This Easter, I got a blessing I never expected—a reminder that love never really leaves us. Sometimes it just finds a new way to say “hi”...even from the highs of Heaven. May your Easter be blessed as well, reflected in whatever treasured symbols of love and hope you are open to receiving.