The Secret Language of the Universe

Do you believe that our loved ones who have passed away are still looking after us? That somehow, they still find ways to communicate with us? When I learned about the idea of the invisible string that connects all of us, I started believing that maybe our connection with one another can surpass time, dimension, and even the universe. Let me tell you why. My cousin-in-law once talked about a book called Signs: The Secret Language of the Universe by Laura Lynne Jackson. She shared how she asked her beloved dog who suddenly passed away last year, for a sign., and somehow, she saw it. Out of curiosity, I tried it too. My cousin passed away in 2024 at the early age of forty. I had so many regrets. We were only beginning to rebuild our relationship after missing so many years growing up, and then suddenly she was gone. Part of me felt relief knowing she would no longer have to endure the pain her body had carried for so long. But a bigger part of me was left with so many what ifs. So I asked her for a sign. We have this photo taken when we were younger, right after we had taken a bath together. In that photo, I was holding a toy boat made of plastic. It was white on the top and blue at the bottom. It was a toy from the 90s, so the chances of seeing something exactly like it now, in 2026, felt almost impossible. When I spoke to her, I told her it didn’t have to look exactly the same. But somehow, I’d know it when I saw it. If I did, I would take it as a sign that she’s finally free from pain. For a few days, I kept seeing influencers posting about the Disney Cruise coming to Asia. I thought, “Oh, that’s nice.” And that was it. Then one day, I saw an influencer’s Instagram story about importing the same dog breed my cousin-in-law once had. It reminded me of her story about asking for a sign. And suddenly I remembered... I was still waiting for mine. Right after that story, the next slide showed the Disney cruise ship. And when I looked at it closely, I paused. The shape looked exactly like my toy boat. White on top. Blue at the bottom. Coincidence? Maybe. But it was what I asked for. And I choose not to dismiss the thought that maybe Ate was telling me she’s okay now. Pain-free. Free from all the hurt she carried for years. This Sunday will be her second death anniversary. A timely sign. 🤍