MY SON WHISPERED “I WISH GRANDPA WAS HERE”—AND A STRANGER TURNED AROUND We were just there to see the waterfall. A spontaneous Saturday thing to shake off the chaos of the week. My little boy, Miles, was unusually quiet, clutching my hand tighter than usual as we walked along the edge of the railing. He’s three. Still learning how to process big feelings, still asking about my dad every time we pass a park bench that reminds him of the one they used to sit on. So when he tugged on my arm and whispered, almost to himself, “I wish Grandpa was here,” I just nodded and said, “I know, baby. Me too.” But someone heard him. This older man in a suit—like, full-on lavender shirt, pressed slacks, the whole look—was standing not far from us, facing the water. He turned around slowly. Made eye contact with Miles. Then smiled. Not the ⬇️