The new job was two states away, and while the company was paying for moving expenses and temporary housing until I found a house I wanted, I was still caught between being nervous about moving to a place I didn’t know and worried about losing my job if I couldn’t quickly find a house I could afford. So imagine my relief when, on my first house scouting trip, I found the perfect place.

It was on the outskirts of town in an older, spread out neighborhood with big yards and wide, quiet streets. The house itself had been built in the 1940s, and while it had apparently sat empty for several years, it was in surprisingly good repair. It was also way bigger than anything I could have afforded back home, with a large front porch and a second story that contained two more bedrooms and a large master bath.

I was moved in by the middle of November, and by the time I went home for Thanksgiving last week, I was mostly unpacked aside from a few of Mark’s belongings that I was keeping in storage until it hurt a little less to see them. Holidays have been especially hard since he died, but between the new job and house, and being happy to be around my family again, I’ve been pretty occupied and had a really good time during my visit back home. But while I loved my new house, I’d be lying if a part of me didn’t dread driving back to it and the relatively lonely new life it represented.

Maybe that’s why my first reaction to the plastic snowman in my yard was surprise and delight instead of confusion or concern. It was a very old-fashioned looking three-foot snowman wearing a red scarf and green mittens, and as my headlights swept across it as I pulled into my driveway, it almost looked like it was giving me a little wave. This was late Sunday night, and I was a bit punchy from hours of driving, but I remember letting out a small laugh as I stopped the car and looked at it.

It was close to the street, but too far in and well-positioned to have fallen out of a truck or been placed in my yard unintentionally. I pulled on up in my driveway and got out slowly, looking around as though I was going to see the responsible party waiting behind a bush at close to midnight. For all I knew, it could have been there for days…I just had no idea where it had come from.