My real dad
Message of Love Story by Kristin “My real dad:”

I was a passenger in my grandfather’s car a few months ago. I felt a spirit’s presence riding along with us in the back seat. It wasn’t the first time I felt this spirit in my grandfather’s presence. I knew our company was an elderly male who went by the name of Edward. His name was a reoccurring thought whenever I was in my grandfather’s company. Edward insisted that I say he was ‘sorry.’ Previously, I hesitated to express anything to my grandfather and pushed it away for fear of saying something wrong.

But, on this day, I felt compelled to see if my grandfather knew an “Edward.” He paused for a while before asking why I would want to know. I told him I heard Edward’s name whenever I was around him and that he wanted to apologize for what he did. My grandfather was quiet when we drove to a restaurant drive-through to order food, and I thought I had said something wrong. When we pulled away after receiving our order, he said Thomas was his birth father’s name. This information was new because I thought his father, my great grandfather’s name, was Joe. We ate our food in silence.

I thought I had made the situation weird until my grandfather said something as if he had read my mind. “You heard me speak of my real dad, Joe, who raised me. I don’t speak about Edward because he left when I was a boy.” I kept focusing on the road ahead, sipping my drink, feeling awkward about our discussion. And then he added, “for whatever reason, I always remember around this time of year when it happened.” My grandfather is a man of few words, and we haven’t discussed our moment in the car since. I assume Edwards’s message was delivered as intended because I no longer hear his name when I’m with my grandfather.

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Photo by Nathan Cowley

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