When my grandpa died two weeks ago, I didn’t want to tell my mom I was suffering another miscarriage. What a cruel downer to rest upon her already grieving heart. But, when the tears started coming, I had no choice but to share with her all the grief in my heart, too. Such a beautiful, practical woman…she just replied, “Well, don’t you think your three little angels might be waiting for grandpa at heaven’s gates? Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

To imagine my grandpa’s surprise to meet family he never knew existed, is a sweet vision. I am sure he spent his first few hours in heaven in delighted surprise, being awakened to new truths and companionship at every moment. I also gain peace from imagining him, not only with the love of his life (my grandma), but also taking care of those babies I never got a chance to take care of myself. It makes me feel a little steadier knowing he is up there, with all his kindness and wisdom, making their worlds a little brighter and more comforting.

At this juncture in my spiritual journey, I no longer believe in coincidence. I think every overlapping ideal has been set in our path purposely. I had a dream about my grandpa a few nights ago. He was at a family reunion here on earth, every bit his age, but with beautiful, rested, glowing skin, and a fluidity in his movements he hasn’t had in decades. He simply approached me – me knowing full well this was his goodbye – and gave me a giant, bear hug. No words were needed. I was bawling, yet knew he needed to get back to grandma on the other side. Peacefully, he let go of me and turned slowly to fade back into the other world. Not believing in coincidences, I believe that was his goodbye. I believe, because we were not very close, we didn’t need a long or wordy goodbye, but just an exchange of love and the proof to me that he is in good health and spirit in his new version of life. Maybe, with his new understanding of all I have been through lately, he just wanted to give me a hug because he knew that was something he could do to silently support me.

I will forever hold the vision of my three little ones bouncing excitedly at heaven’s gates, waiting impatiently to usher my grandpa into his next, best life. I will imagine him scooping them up in his arms, happy beyond belief to share his life with these great-grandkids that the continent would have separated him from here on earth. I will remember that I have oodles of family caring for each other in a dimension that is partially closed off to my soul currently. But they are there. Peaceful. In eternal vacation mode. Hallelujah. Hallelujah.