The Facebook Post That Wouldn’t Stop. A Widow’s Story of Signs after Loss and Love

The annual festival in my community that is in memory of my Alex has made me heal in so many ways. I am grateful for Alex's PBA and Barnegat Twp for their dedication to this event each year.

Just six weeks after Alex died, I stood quietly at a fall festival I never imagined attending alone.

His coworkers from the police department had pulled together a full-blown community event in his memory: Hoofy’s Fall Fest. “Hoofy” was the nickname Judy, his colleague, gave him and it stuck.

It was cold that day in mid-November. The kind of cold that settles into your bones and makes you question why you left the house. But there were firepits scattered throughout the space, and the warmth of the people who loved him made it bearable. I layered myself in clothes, including Alex’s tattered Carhartt jacket. The hood stayed up. People couldn’t even find me in the crowd.

There were bands, food trucks, vendors, and beer tents. It was all the things Alex would have loved. He loved the fall season too. The community showed up for him. For us. It was strange and beautiful, a paradox, seeing life go on while carrying the weight of his absence.

At the end of the night, I stood up and gave a short speech. I raised a glass and spoke his name into the chilly November air. I thanked the officers who made it happen. I shared what Alex meant to us. A friend recorded the moment and sent to me. Even with my Joisey accent, I bravely posted the video to Facebook and only once.

That’s when things got weird.

The next day, the video posted again. Then again. Then again. Three to five times a day, in fact, and for almost a week. I remember one of Alex's officer friends asked me if I was showing off. I think he even used the word, pompous, which I hoped others did not see me that way.

I promise I didn’t repost it. I wasn’t even on my phone half the time when the post was happening. One day it posted while I was at my son’s basketball practice and I got a text from my sister asking if I posted the video again. Another morning, I was out feeding the chickens and sheep on the farm, and it went up again. People started messaging me: “Did you mean to share this again?” Others were enjoying the reposts, and surprisingly agreed with me when I playfully blamed Alex.

Was It a Glitch or Something More?

But it wasn’t just a glitch. Or maybe it was. But to me, it was something else entirely.

Because on the last day that video reposted, was on Alex’s birthday. His first one in Heaven.

That was the moment I stopped questioning and started listening. It felt like a sign. A nudge. A wink from him. A gift, really.

Signs After Loss & What I’ve Come to Believe

I didn’t know much about “electronic voice phenomena” or EMF fields.I wasn’t looking for a sign. I was just trying to survive.

But when something happens over and over, especially something like this, it's bound to get your attention.

Some researchers suggest that spiritual energy can interact with electronics. Others brush it off. I’m not here to prove anything. All I know is this:

That video posted itself, over and over, and then stopped on his birthday.

What else could I do, but whisper, “Thank you” to a post about love.

Here’s what I’ve come to believe:

• Grief doesn’t block connection. It can open the door to it.

• You don’t have to understand it to receive it.

• Love finds a way to keep speaking and often through the unexpected.

• Humor, mystery, and spirit can co-exist. As you can see in my texts, I was actually laughing at some of the responses.

• And sometimes, the most sacred moments arrive through glitches and firepits.

  
  

For the widow reading this

If you’re a widow wondering if it’s okay to see signs after loss, to welcome them, to believe in them.

It is.

This is not about clinging to the past. This is about honoring the love that shaped you.

You don’t need to explain it. You just get to feel it.

As for me? Every year since, we celebrate Hoofy's Fall Fest, and I often think about that first festival. The firepits. The cold air. The toast. The comradery of beautiful humans who knew and loved Alex or just wanted to show up and support our grief.

And of course the video that wouldn’t stop. And how, just maybe, Alex found a way to post one more time.

Thank you, Alex. For the sign. For reminding me love still moves.

I love you forever & forever.

xo,

Jac

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Click here to watch my speech

Facebook responses to the reposting of my video

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In my next blog, I’ll share more sacred signs Alex has sent me — the kind that remind me he’s still right here, walking this path beside me.

If you’ve ever received a sign, or wondered if you missed one, you won’t want to miss it.