Grief, Faith, and the Blue Butterfly

06.10.2025

As a kid, I would go fishing with my dad almost every weekend. Sometimes, we’d all go together as a family, but often it was just the two of us. I spent far more time in nature back then than I do now, and those fishing trips are some of my fondest memories of both my childhood and my dad.

We’d stop on our way out to pick up some Glazier hotdogs (a childhood staple) and a couple of sodas. Then we’d spend the day trudging through the woods to our “secret” fishing hole that no one (everyone) knew about! Honestly, those were the best days of my childhood.

I wish I had continued fishing with my dad as I got older. He often mentioned wanting to throw a line out again. But I was too busy. I had a family, responsibilities, and a never-ending to-do list. We all have regrets, and some are harder to carry than others.

My dad passed away on Father’s Day, 2022. He had been sick for a while, and we knew the inevitable was coming. I had to be strong for my kids and my brother. My brother lives in New York, where we grew up, so he hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Dad as he would’ve liked. He was carrying his own regrets, and I wanted to make sure he knew just how much Dad loved him and how proud he was of the man he’d become. I didn’t take time to grieve for myself.

When the grief finally hit, it was like a Mack truck. I wanted my dad back so badly. I just wanted to go fishing with him one more time. I wanted to hear him talk about the birds in his backyard and the garden he was excited to plant. I realized then how many of my happiest memories with my dad were rooted in nature.

One day, I found myself sitting on my back deck, struggling through another grief-stricken afternoon, begging God to give me my dad back. I cried harder that day than I ever had. I mentally flipped through memories of him and landed on one: the two of us sitting on the deck, watching birds flit around the feeders, squirrels performing circus-worthy acrobatics in the trees, and the butterflies—oh, the butterflies! We had never seen butterflies as beautiful as the ones in Virginia.

God brought that memory to mind. I smiled through the tears and thanked Him for it. That had been one of my dad’s good days. He had even driven himself to our house, something he hadn’t been doing much by then. We were surprised and grateful to see him. As we sat together on the deck, quietly enjoying the peacefulness, a blue butterfly landed on the railing. We both loved the color blue, and we just sat there, silently admiring it.

The memory was so vivid I could almost hear his voice. Whether we were fishing or simply watching the wildlife, my favorite times with my dad were always outside, enjoying God’s artwork.

Through tears, I thanked God again, took a deep breath, and opened my eyes.

And there it was… a blue butterfly on the railing, wings gently waving, watching me.

Melody Deshaies

Melody attends the Aylett Campus with her husband and their two children. Raised in Northern New York, she moved to Virginia with her husband in 2000. When she’s not serving at church in one capacity or another, she works full-time in agricultural lending, supporting local farmers. She is also pursuing a degree in Christian Leadership through online college. Melody enjoys spending time with her family and takes advantage of rainy days by curling up with a good book.