Sunflower Signs

In our darkest hour, can a deceased love offer guidance? Emily Mason has never been able to escape the grief she feels over the death of her childhood love and hero, Danny – though it’s been almost nine years since he passed away. She will sometimes even sleep on his grave for comfort. She can’t seem to do anything right in the eyes of her husband, Scott – who reprimands Emily about everything from her messy handwriting, to singing Christmas songs outside of the month of December, to her inability to bring home enough groceries in her bike basket. She depends on her reluctantly psychic older sister, Ericka, to always come to her rescue when she is in peril – which is often. Her fears are many – she’s terrified of people dressed in costumes, thunderstorms, and she refuses to drive a car. Just when Emily’s life begins to completely unravel, Danny leaves her a sign that can’t be ignored. Emily is faced with making a decision that will take her far away from the security of her sister’s care, and the comfort of being near Danny’s final resting place. Sunflowers Signs is a quirky, funny, and emotional story about love, family, and the connections we keep with those who have passed over to the other side. Previously published in three parts.


Meet T. Grace Bailey

I am a believer in the spirit carrying on after death. I probably spend more time thinking about this than the average person, and intend on writing a lot more about this subject!

Late one evening in the summer of 2017, I was sitting outside alone under a stunningly clear night sky, doused in bug spray, crying. I’d had a good bit of wine.

I had pretty much hit a wall with my stress level at my sales job – and the desire to snip myself loose so I that could dive into writing, tugged at me constantly. But I was terrified to make that leap. That night, I tilted my head back (taking care not to spill my Chardonnay), and as I often do when I’m upset, I reached out to the spirits of my dad and nana. With tears streaming down my face, I said to the sky, “You could help me you know.”

The second the words left my lips, the biggest shooting star I’ve ever seen in my life shot right over the top of me. It was so large and close, I thought at first my town was being bombed. When it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, I laughed and cried at the same time, and could imagine my dad and nana holding back grins, turning to each other and saying, “I think we got her attention that time.”

They did. And here I am, following my dream. If a perfectly timed shooting star makes me believe in myself, so be it.

My quirky three-part book, Sunflower Signs, looks at how our deceased loved ones reach out to us. I hope it will make you laugh, cry, and consider the possibilities.