by Audrey Walls, M.Ed., M.F.A.
The biggest rainbow you’ve ever seen. A black bear that mysteriously prowls through your backyard. A child’s toy in the most unlikely place. By themselves, these sightings may be interesting, but not particularly meaningful. But in the light of grief, everything takes on a different shape and significance.
Megan Devine of Refuge in Grief tells us, unsurprisingly, that grief can be absolutely brutal and isolating. It can leave folks searching for answers, meaning, or a bigger connection to the outside world. In her article, Synchronicity and Grief, Megan writes that although grievers often experience things that are “too precise to be entirely random,” there can be a stigma attached to sharing signs and symbols that are believed to be from loved ones we have lost. “But the reality is, almost everyone has a story of something precise and random happening in their grief that lets them know that there is something going on here,” she writes.
Full Circle therapist Karen Coyner, LCSW, DCSW, shares Megan’s opinion that looking for signs from our loved ones can foster a deeper connection to them, and ourselves. “Finding signs from our loved ones can be comforting and help to create a new kind of connection as we move forward with grief,” she explains. Karen often encourages her clients to engage with the symbol or sign they’ve noticed and allow themselves the time to sit with it as long as possible. She adds, “There is something beautiful in an unexpected sign that has the power to soften our pain.”
An unexpected sign is something that Angel Hart doesn’t need to think twice about. Although she had lived in her house for over 17 years, Angel had never seen a bear, although it was rumored from friends and neighbors that they were common in their area. About one week after she lost her son, Kaleb, to a homicide in 2020, Angel noticed an enormous black bear walking through their family’s yard, only about ten feet away from where she and her husband were standing. In light of their recent loss, Angel and her husband took this as a “sign” sent from Kaleb, especially since bears can represent courage, strength, and healing.
Shannon Armes, of Skylar’s Love Mission, had a similar experience after the loss of a child. On Bereaved Mother’s Day in 2023, which is acknowledged annually on the first Sunday in May, she and her family decided to visit the Angel of Hope monument in Richmond’s Hollywood Cemetery for the first time. They brought flowers – pink and blue hydrangeas – to leave at the statue in memory of their daughter Skylar, and all children gone too soon.
Shannon remembers, “A bicycle tour guide helped direct us to the monument’s location. When we found it, my husband pulled over. I opened my door to step out and was pleasantly surprised to see a little pink Care Bear with a rainbow on it on the ground. We could have parked anywhere around the monument, but we parked directly next to the little bear.”

She and her family were immediately amazed and delighted, and considered it “a little ‘God-wink’” for their family on that special day. Shannon’s young son was likewise excited to find a “sign” marking their tribute to Skylar, and held the toy on the drive home from the cemetery. He has kept the pink Care Bear on his dresser ever since.
Linda Zaffram, LCSW, of Healing Circle Counseling, also found signs after the death of a parent. Linda lost her father, Dennis, in 2016, which required her to make the long drive to New York for his funeral. As she drove along the interstate, she came upon the biggest, most beautiful, vibrant rainbow – radiating out so much that it became a double rainbow. As if this wasn’t magical enough, Linda continued to drive along the highway until she actually saw the end of the rainbow. “It was the most surreal thing I have ever seen in my life,” Linda shares, “It was the actual end of a rainbow in the grass!”
The big question, of course – was there anything at the end of the rainbow? Linda jokes that while there wasn’t a pot of gold, she did find a feeling of immense peace. “I felt my father was sending me a message that he was okay.” Now, whenever she sees a rainbow, she says “Hi, Dad!” and feels that same sense of peace.
However, the converse of these kinds of stories can also be true. Here at Full Circle, we’ve definitely heard stories about grievers who patiently wait for a sign from their loved one, only to find silence, an empty sky, or dark trees where others find rainbows or cardinals. And their experience in grief is just as valid and true as the examples we have shared here.
Litsa Williams from What’s Your Grief, often gets asked if she believes that “signs” from loved ones are “real”. Litsa writes, “My answer to them is often frustrating, but honest – I don’t think it matters.” What matters more, she argues, is that the sign or the symbol, whatever it is, and wherever it shows up, is another moment to “feel close to someone who is gone, to remember them and smile that there is some bit of their presence left” for us to enjoy.
As for Angel Hart and her bear, she takes it one step further, asking the skeptics, why not just believe? “Signs give hope and confirmation that the energy of our loved ones never dies,” Angel confides, “So, why not revel in whatever signs are received, or perceived, to be real and provide some sense of comfort?” Similarly, Megan Devine sees these moments as “deep companions inside grief” and asks us all, as grievers and supporters, skeptics and believers alike, to simply be open to the possibility:
“Can we voice the wonder and fascination at these external evidences of some larger thing happening, whether it is simply our brains making connections – which is completely cool in and of itself – or something beyond just our minds?”
Here at Full Circle, we take a similar approach in acknowledging that every grief journey is deeply personal, and that there is no “one-size-fits-all” definition for how you make meaning after the loss of a loved one. Sometimes a rainbow is a sign from someone who is gone, and sometimes a rainbow is just water and light. We honor the griever’s interpretation first and foremost; we make room and hold space for both.