On October 4, 1959 my biological father and his dad, my grandfather, died in a horrific aviation accident. It happened one month before my third birthday. The event was a defining moment for the adults in our family in many respects, and a life altering moment for me.
The first irony to the story is that before departure, there was a brief conversation between my mom and him about whether I should travel with these two men. (Even now I have difficulty calling these strangers dad and grandpa.) Obviously, I didn't accompany them. The second irony is that this was suppose to be a short trip so they didn't take much baggage. They've been gone 50 years now and their absence created a lot of "baggage". Their goal was to fly from Michigan to Iowa and secure the court's permission to bring the first daughter from the first marriage to the new family. This would be my half-sister. Of course the accident on the return flight canceled those plans.
Life without a father offered seemingly insurmountable challenges, amazing growth, many moments of frozen fear, loneliness and, on a more positive note, an incredible emotional intelligence unattainable by any other means. A child learns to cope, to read emotion, sense feelings and, as is often the case when something is "lost", that child subconsciously seeks a father-figure to fill the void. I was fortunate that my other grandfather (maternal side) accepted the responsibility of being a part-time father figure. When I grew older, hunting, trapping, fishing and tracking were regular routines.
My maternal grandmother and grandfather were both very spiritual people. They would read the Bible and pray. He often whistled a song called "Heavenly Sunshine". She was always humming a hymn. When we stayed at their house he would always pray with me just before bedtime. He would always kneel. I would do anything to get out of bed, so I copied him. He asked me to pray and I always did and for some reason I always prayed aloud. He would kneel beside me and cup my hands in his. I would stay on my knees waiting for him to finish. He always prayed silently. It seemed like an eternity. I remember thinking that he and God must've had a lot to discuss! Occasionally, he would start to cry. It was a quiet, gentle weeping. I wouldn't have noticed except for the few tears that fell on my hands. I'll never forget grandpa's huge hands as they covered mine. I'll never forget his few silent tears.
My heavenly Father has always been with me. He has replaced the void. He has helped me face fears, loneliness, and been my connection. His large hands have covered and shielded my whole body many, many times. He cries for me. His tears wash my soul. I don't have to kneel because He kneels for me. I don't have to pray because he understands me . I do however, choose to kneel whenever I can and pray wherever I am, because I want to and I love Him. My heavenly Father whistles. I think His favorite song, like grandpas, is "Heavenly Sunshine."
That would be a great ending to a true story in my life and you probably should choose to stop reading and accept it. The rest however, gives some answers to grandpa's tears.
Decades later my mother revealed that grandpa wasn't always the spiritual man that I knew as a child. His life was quite empty. He chose to abuse his body with tobacco and especially alcohol. Alcohol changed his heart, set up residence, brought in furniture, hung pictures and occupied it with a long term lease. Eventually the alcohol controlled his better judgment and he sexually abused his only daughter, my mother. She said that one day, after she was an adult, he came to see her and through wet eyes and a pleading heart asked for forgiveness. The man I never knew was a new man in Christ, he was my father, my part-time dad, my GRAND father. Sometimes it's best NOT to know; to be protected from.... the truth.
I'm confident that it saddens God to see cars collide, and in my situation, planes to fall from the sky and family to abuse their own. It ALWAYS saddens me to hear of tragedy but it comforts me to know God has a plan. Dwelling on the drama won't change the past. Praying about it won't change it either. However, asking for divine guidance can change your perspective and help you cope in the present! Regardless of your past or MAYBE even your present, God is ALWAYS waiting with a better plan; a better one than you could ever possibly imagine. God forgives and changes hearts...... for a reason, even for the men I never knew.
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