After night comes the Light

So I have not checked my mail in over a month. Usually there is no need to, because I pay all of my bills online and throw away all of the paper mail. My mom has been telling me for some time that my Grandfather send me a note and was wondering if I received it. She told me it was around Christmas time, so I assumed it was just a Christmas card.

At Midtown last night, I reminded myself I need to get the mail soon, and told my roommate. On the drive home, he reminded me to stop and get the mail (Not check the mail, mind you. I knew the box was bursting). I ran through some bills and found the letter from my Grandfather. It was too thick to be a card, so I curiously opened the letter.

I was not prepared for what happened next...In a good way.

There was a handwritten note inside dated 12/31/07, and my Grandfather was saying that he was praying for me, and how he hoped that 2008 would be a year of new beginnings and exceeded expectations. He said he was including something he wrote many years ago when he was going through some very difficult situations, and my mother was 9 years old. The next 2 pages were stapled together and handwritten. It was a photocopy of a journal entry and obviously private. The date at the top corner was August 30, 1968. The opening greeting: "Dear God,".

I sat down and began to read. Mostly just a sentence at a time because of the intensity of the material (and the misty vision barrier). Not just the material though, but the raw vulnerability, pain, hurt, and hope it conveyed. He was crying out to God from a situation that had him on his knees. He was approaching rock-bottom in many areas, but his prayers and pleas were not mainly for himself, but mostly for others near him that could be affected by the situation. For them--For their restoration. Perhaps a little background: My Grandfather is just a couple generations in from Sicily. Italian to the core. Very affectionate and generous in everything he does...very giving. Vulnerability, however was something I had never seen from him, and his journal entry from that night in 1968 was intense and real, and definitely vulnerable before God. Allowing me to share in this made him that way to me also. He expressed feelings so closely mirroring mine that it was scary, yet also feelings and emotions that I could not imagine dealing with even after all I've been through. At the time of his writing, the situation could have gone either way, and he was asking God for strength in unique ways for each specific outcome. The surreal part was the fact that I have seen the outcome of the situation, and seen the answers to the things he was desperately seeking in his prayers. I cannot describe what sharing in this was like.

I felt like a jackass for not checking the mail sooner. As Aaron nicely put it (after I went through 50 bills to find his letter), "Its worth sorting through a pile of shit to find that Gold." Indeed.

It is a wonderful thing to recognize what is truly important...however the cost for that is not cheap. It looks like we are all gaining and understanding things from each other's experiences.

EDIT: After sharing this story a few times, people seemed to think my Grandfather is deceased. He is very much alive, and I called and thanked him today.