This is a story I have shared with only two people before. I think I've mentioned it to some others, but not as personal as what I am about to tell you now.
My papa was a very important person in my life. He was always supporting our family and friends, he was always putting others before himself, and he made our family so close; we were inseparable.
He was always looking out for all of his children and grand kids. Always.
When he passed away two years ago, it was the hardest moment of my life, and still is to this day. He had been in the hospital for a few weeks before, and he wasn't getting any better. I remember the tuesday before his passing my dad was on the phone with my uncle, and all I remember from the conversation was, "How much longer did they say he has?" and I remember my heart stopping.
His death was difficult for everyone. All the grand kids were only 2 days into the school year, and my aunt Laura had a baby on the way; 7 months pregnant. My papa's death hit our family really hard.
Death is something so perplexing, that to be able to understand why it happens is emotionally and physically impossible. Still, people try to question it. They curse at God saying, "Why them? Why
us?" It's like a protest; the victims will march around with their signs arguing the injustice until someone gives them the compensation they are looking for. The victims are us, the someone is God, and the compensation we are looking for is to bring our loved ones back to us. But we all know that is never going to happen.
A few days later it was my birthday, and all my friends pitched in to get me my first iPod (yes, it took me that long to get an iPod). I was so excited to put songs on it, so that night I loaded my entire iTunes library onto my iPod and started listening to it. As I was going through my artists, I noticed this guy called John Dee Grahm. I had never heard of him, so I asked my sister if she downloaded this song, and she said no. I then asked my dad and he said he had never heard of him. My entire family had never heard of this guy or of this song,
One Moment. Curious, I decided to give it a listen. These are the lyrics:
In the name of 53 saints, I will go search, he says. Seek out the hurt, he says, where comes as pain
Could it be a whirlwind spinning in the dark, says, an animal in your heart, says, I will find the same
In time, one moment to another.
With the baby that is to come, there will be no suffering. There will be no hurt, he says, for either or the one.
It will fall into this world as an easy thing. No mishappenings, he says the inner sun will come,
In time, one moment to another.
I've heard that shortly after a loved-ones passing you can still feel their presence around you. It definitely felt like my papa was speaking to me through this song. This was a sign from my papa, telling me that everything was going to be alright even though he's gone. I was so shocked that all I could do was cry.
I cried every night for a month listening to that song, and then it started to slow down until eventually the crying stopped. 3 months later my aunt Laura had her baby. She said it was the quickest and easiest birth she has ever had, let alone heard of. Naturally, I cried.
I didn't tell anybody about this until after my cousin was born, just in case the whole thing was in my head, although I did have faith that it wasn't. Every once in a while I'll come across the song, and to this day I still believe it his him talking to me, and there has been nothing to prove me wrong (believe me, I searched). My papa was always caring for others before himself, even in his grave.
You don't have to believe in heaven to believe in this story, because heaven had nothing to do with it. Really, as cheesy and as cliche as this sounds, all you gotta believe in is the love between a papa and his grand-daughter.
I love you forever Papa, and you will always be my #1 hero. <3
