Often, I get visitors in the shape of birds. The feathers, always the color red. Grandma used to say to me, back when I was younger and she was alive, that those who have died pay us visits like this.
On the porch, no matter the weather or season, together we see 2 red birds or more. We welcome them and wonder which family member could they be. Is it Grandma's sons, my uncles? Is it Grandma's husband, my grandpa? Is it her grandson, my cousin? Every year, after another funeral of someone who was gone too soon or passed on in their ripe age, those red birds come to visit us, just for a moment yet it is enough time.
When it was Grandma's turn, life support the only thing keeping her shell of a body with me, I was visited by a hummingbird and found out it meant "healing". So, we let Grandma go, we are healing, and to this day, I am still visited by the red birds. The cardinals of the ones that are no longer with me, finding time to visit, saying "hello".