Last night I was struck by how little I think of my family and God’s saving grace.
You see, when I pray for the intercession of the dead and dying, such as my grandpa and step-aunt (both of whom were not Catholic and seemingly not terribly religious at all, except they did believe in God), I have difficulty believing that they are in heaven now. I don’t believe they are in hell, because I believe God’s mercy saved them that much, but I don’t believe they are in heaven either.
So, today is the third anniversary of my step-aunt passing. My stepdad is, of course, sad. Last night at the dinner table we were discussing how today would be the third anniversary and how almost everyone seems to have forgotten except a select few. I spoke up and mentioned that I continue to pray for her – which was the wrong thing to do. Again, to reiterate, no one else is Catholic but me – and so my stepdad asks, “What do you pray for?”
I couldn’t say, “To get her soul out of purgatory,” because he would have been offended – so I said, “That’s she’s doing well.” He said, “Don’t you think she’s doing well in heaven? It just all depends on what her house looks like.”
At that moment, I was struck by how critical I have been of my deceased relatives and what God can work in each one of them and for them. I was and am embarassed. So many times I have thought to speak to my deceased grandfather, but I truly can’t help but think he’s in purgatory and cannot hear me.