Nicholas Weis popped into my mind the other day. Maybe it was the summer heat finally settling in to stay for a bit that brought my mind back to the day I first learned about the little boy from Mebane, North Carolina.

Or maybe it was something deeper—a feeling that I get when I need to be reminded that I might not get all the answers that I seek in the way that I want or expect.

I did a little digging and discovered that the first time I sat down to write about Nicholas Weis was on July 1, 2010. Nicholas had died less than a week before on June 25, just three days shy of his 10^th birthday.

The timing of my recent thoughts about Nicholas didn’t surprise me at all. But the fact that Nicholas would have turned 20 years old if he had lived, momentarily took my breath away. That’s a lot of life that he didn’t have the chance to experience.

I’ve been looking for a sign lately—I’m still waiting for it to show itself—and, interestingly enough, Nicholas’ story came with so many. From his cat, Gabby Aunt Kathy, who stood watch beside a photo of Nicholas in the moments before his death, to the dragonfly that flew circles around my head a year later while I interviewed the Weises at Nicholas’ gravesite, there have been many signs that caught my attention.

When I first noticed there were dragonfly lights stuck in planters and a large metal one stuck in the ground at Nicholas’ gravesite, I asked Jon and Heather Weis if the dragonfly held any special meaning. Heather said that after Nicholas died, dragonflies started appearing. It seemed there was always one flying around no matter where they went. As she was talking, Heather said,  “Look. There’s one now.” I looked up and a dragonfly swooped by us and continued to fly around my head.

In Japan, the dragonfly is a symbol of joy and light. It inspires us to practice the shedding and mirroring of light in our lives and to recognize when others are doing the same. Since they start their life in water, they are often found around lakes, ponds and swimming pools. There wasn’t an ounce of water near where we stood in Alamance Memorial Park. That dragonfly traveled far to get to us.

Nicholas, who battled brain cancer for seven years, lived life to the fullest and always shared his enthusiasm with others by giving a thumbs up. A year after his death, a procession of motorcycles and hundreds of people headed to Alamance Memorial Park for the unveiling of a life-size monument of a smiling Nicholas giving his signature thumbs up.

Months later, the Weises found a cast of a hand giving a thumbs up sitting under a tree at the plot. They had no idea who left it there. That’s when they told me about a photo that someone took during the motorcycle procession I had attended. In the photo, the driver of the motorcycle is giving a thumbs up to the camera. The woman riding behind him has her hands around his waist. Behind her is a child’s hand also giving a thumbs up to the camera.

What’s weird about that, right? This is a case where a picture is definitely worth a thousand words. Whose little hand is that?

The universe is always sending us signs. Don’t forget to pay attention.