At 5 o clock in the afternoon,  I was finishing up my last call and looking forward to a long soak in the tub. Happy to be home, I almost ignored the insistent ringing of the telephone.  Before I could even say hello, I heard the panic in the voice on the line.   “It’s your sister Ashley. She’s gone missing! She was last seen wandering on Dale Mabry but that was days ago and no one has seen her since. We’ve been to the police but they won’t file a missing persons report. “

The room started spinning, my heart racing, and panic set in. “Our insurance company dropped us so the treatment center released her without informing anyone. Left her clothes; left her medications, just walked out the front door.  We have no idea where she is now.”

“I don’t understand this! WHY won’t the police file a missing persons report!?

“All they said was she’s an adult who is allowed to be missing”. I got on the next plane home – determined to find Ashley myself. 

The early days of searching were a blur.  We tacked up homemade flyers, like the faded ones you see with a reward for a lost dog’s return, on telephone poles and in storefront windows. We checked daily with hospitals, jails, and homeless shelters, but were often turned away.  “Maybe your sister doesn’t want to be found’ we were told, and we have to respect privacy laws you know”. “But my sister is not well, she could be hurt. Please help me.”

We soon changed tactics and began to approach the homeless on street corners. I quickly realized that giving out rolled up dollar bills and packs of cigarettes to complete strangers would give us more answers than the tight-lipped social workers. And checking with the morgue to inquire about any unidentified deceased Jane Does, instead of lounging over a second cup of coffee, became my new morning routine. The days turned to weeks with no sign of my sister and I had to return to my life and my then job in California without answers. 

I was consumed with worry with each passing day and continually haunted by a premonition I’d had a few months earlier.  As I hugged my sister goodbye at Christmas - I was struck with a foreboding sense that I would never see her again. Had that been a warning about what was happening now? 

Deep in thought and procrastinating over doing my expense reports, I received yet another call that brought me to my knees. “Your Grandfather is dying” my mother said. “He has just a few days to live. Come now to say goodbye”.  I choked back sobs as I packed once more for the cross-country trip to see him one last time.

My Grandmother and Grandfather were the only example of kindness and stability I had as a child.  Granddaddy Bob was a minister who wore his heart on his sleeve and who prayed with his parishioners as if their troubles were his own. And while I secretly hoped his words of faith were true, I carried a deep sense of abandonment about my estranged father and anger about the adopted one that took his place.  I often wondered where was this invisible God my Grandfather had devoted his life to. 

Finally sitting at his deathbed, I quietly raged to the silent unseen.   “My sister is missing, my job is on the line, and letting your biggest fan die from colon cancer is just wrong. Feel free to jump in anytime.” But even in his final hours, my Granddaddy wanted to pray with me and assure me he was at peace with what was next. I was thinking to myself his God would never hear those prayers. I didn’t believe He existed.

I will always remember our final exchange. Granddaddy Bob reached out to take both of my hands. He said, “God answers prayers – sometimes the answer doesn’t come right away, but it comes. Get quiet. Listen.” 

“Why does he have so much faith even as he suffers like this?” I thought to myself, with tears rolling down my cheeks, as I held his frail hands for the last time. ‘Everyone has a purpose, including you – and when I get there – as he pointed to the sky – I’m going to see about that.’

He died the next day. It was only a few days later that I noticed the ‘how to start a nonprofit organization’ flyer at the library, began having unexplainable dreams that showed glimpses of my future, and got my first major media interview about my sister’s disappearance after dozens of rejections by the local news stations. I had an unshakeable feeling my Granddaddy was about to make good on his promise.