As has been going on for some time now, my sister and I have been slowly digesting our way through the ephemera of our parents' lives. All the big stuff is gone, leaving letters and cards and photos to be processed and sorted.
One of the things we found was a card that my brother had written to my grandmother after grampa died. It was a bit of a shocker.
He expresses sympathy in a typical young male sort of way, but then goes on to say that he expects to see grampa later in the hereafter time. That was shocking enough. I had no idea that he harbored such radical notions.
But on the back of the card, in shaky handwriting he goes on to tell of an experience of his that was recent. At the time Dan, my brother, was renting our cabin at Tulalip and had married a tribal woman and was fishing commercially in a small way. He had gone outside the bay into the Sound and was alone in a small boat.
He got into trouble and the wind and tide were against him and he was pretty worried. He said, now this is very strange, that grampa came to him and helped him know what to do to get back inside the bay. He didn't say what grampa said. The funny thing is, grampa was no boatman!
So anyhow, he found out later that night that grampa had just died, while he was out in Puget Sound.
I was a little amazed, but it blew my sister's mind. She does not know how to process such a thing. She sat there shaking her head with tears in her eyes. But there it was, written in a young man's shaky handwriting in blue ballpoint ink.
My prayer is that his early faith will be nourished and that my sister will come to knowledge.
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