I never met my grandfathers. They both died before I was born. My father’s father, Frank, died when my dad was only 4 years old and my mother’s father, Morris, died a couple months before I was born. She was pregnant with me at his funeral. She used to tell me that we had crossed paths going opposite directions.
A few months ago, my mother’s father came to my mind. I had a sudden strong urge to learn more about Morris Holmstead. I pulled out the family history that had been sitting on my shelf for years and started reading. Many of the stories I already knew, but not all of the details. I knew that he had been an avid book reader and would frequently send my mother to the library to get a stack of books for him that he would read that same day and send back with her the next day to get more. I knew that he had eventually become an alcoholic and had separated from my grandmother, but only moved out to the barn where she still made him meals and did his laundry. I knew that he had joined the Freemasons. And I knew that he had not attended my parent’s wedding reception.
What I didn’t know were the details of his first wife’s death, the strained relationship he had with his mother-in-law after that, and other struggles he had been through. I felt emotional and a strong connection to this man that I had never met.
Several years ago, I was checking out an antiques store that I had never been into before. It was small and a little crowded. An older gentleman that was also shopping there approached me and asked me if I was related to Morris Holmstead. I was completely caught off guard by this, but admitted that I was his grandson. He told me that I looked like him and that he had worked with him “on the line” back when he was closer to my age.
I walked out of there stunned. I had never considered that I could bump into someone who knew my grandfather or that I looked anything like him.
Fast forward to the other day. We were traveling and stopped at my parents house. I woke up early thinking again about my grandfather Holmstead. I stumbled out to the front room in the early morning light and sat on a recliner. I started praying for and about my grandfather. I wondered about the state of his soul. Was he happy now? Why had I felt so connected to him lately.
I opened my eyes and was surprised to see both of my grandfathers standing about 6 feet in front of me and about 6 feet apart. They were only there long enough for me to recognize them and then both were standing behind me and had their hands on my head. I realized that they were giving me a blessing. I don’t know that I heard their voices, but I knew what they were saying.
I realized that just as I had been concerned about them, they had been concerned about me. That they were aware of my situation and were supporting and helping me.
I do not believe that I am unique in this way. I am sure that each of us has family members and others that are watching out for us, praying for us, and even assisting us. We are supported and loved more than we know.
And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers
Have you felt a connection to someone beyond the veil? Comment below.