finding my wayI loved my Grandpa. As a young child, he taught me to fish and we spent many hours picking huckleberries. Although he was strict, he did not seem to have the same rules as everyone else about what girls could or could not do. I remember he had a great sense of humor and loved to play Wahoo, a marble game. We always had so much fun no matter what we were doing.

I always looked forward to our summer visits. After one great visit, I remember coming home and my mother received a call that he had had a bad heart attack and was not expected to live. I was 12 that year he died.

Over the years, I talked to my Grandpa off and on for many things — some big and some small. He would come to me in my dreams, especially if I was struggling with a decision, and sometimes just to remind me to have more fun. When I was in my early twenties, I decided to move from DC to Seattle. I had visited a friend in Seattle and fell in love with the area. I felt like I had come home.

I made all the arrangements and had a job lined up. I even had future plans to get a Masters at the University of Washington. My friends and family thought I was crazy and tried to talk me out of moving. Suddenly, I was less certain and so again I asked my Grandpa for guidance. I remember vividly him appearing at the bottom of my bed the night before the big move and all he said was, “You need to go. My job is done. You do not need me anymore.”

I remember being scared and frantic and telling him I still needed him. I mean I did not know what lay ahead in Seattle. He just repeated the same lines. I was then more certain the move was the right thing to do but remained unsure that I did not need his help.

The move went well and a few years later I found CDM. I remember having the same feeling that I had when I first visited Seattle. That feeling that I had come home. Looking back, I can see clearly that my Grandpa was helping me separate from my family so I could find my spiritual community. He was right that I did not need him anymore. It was important for me to find my own way, to find my certainty and power within myself.

I remember my Grandpa with much love and I tear up every time I tell this story.

by Pamela Lynn

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