In a previous hub of mine (Knock, Knock) I was asked about how I could "prove" God. Obviously, there is no real way to do that, a lot of one's belief is based on faith and very little on proof, but it made me think of a story I'd like to share with you about the single most important person in my youth - my Grandpa.

My Grandpa was a great man - as I'm sure many people believe there Grandpa's are as well. He was a pretty normal man for his times, being born in 1907, he lived through most of the 20th century and saw all the difficulties that our country went through, 2 World Wars, the Great Depression, etc.

He and my Grandmother had 11 kids (one at a time thank you, no fertility doctors giving them eight at once!) which is a rarity these days, but they were strict Catholics who did not believe in birth control. Remember, these were different times. So because his family was large, he had to work very hard to keep a roof over their head and food on the table. They survived but it's not like today where a child thinks they are mistreated if they don't eat at McDonald's 2 times a week.

By the time I came around, my Grandpa was in his late 60's. He had suffered two strokes and had open heart surgery. So he was not the most physically active person I knew. But boy did he love his family, and he loved us kids especially. I can remember visiting their house one summer and he had my Dad put a reclining chair outside in the backyard so he could sit out watch us grandkids play.

My sister loves to share the story of when she was getting her First Communion she had sent a letter to him asking him to come. My Grandpa took a bus (in very poor health) to make sure he could get there (and annoyed my Grandmother to no end in the process!)

I can remember the only time ever feeling bad around him and it was a time when I had fought with my sister out in the yard and pushed her down. He was very, very strong on the idea that men do not hit women, EVER. Doesn't matter what they did to you, you just don't do it. My mother - a wise woman herself - knew she wasn't getting through to me on this and so put me in front of my Grandpa, who gave me a lecture that to this day - over 20 years later - I still remember. I had never felt so ashamed by my actions as I did that day.

But despite that - and maybe some in part because of it - I knew that Grandpa loved me dearly. It showed in everything he did around me and for me. I loved that man more than I loved anyone else in those times.

When I was 18 I joined the Marine Corps and in my last year in the Corps I was sent to Okinawa. By this time, my Grandpa - who was in his 80's - was in a retirement home and mostly bedridden. When I left to go to Okinawa, I had no idea that when I said good-bye to him, that would be my last time seeing him.

In the middle of summer while I was in Okinawa, I was talking with my mom and had made a comment in passing that she should ask Grandpa to pray for us to get rain over here in Okinawa. We hadn't had rain in a very long time, and they were instituting water rationing and so forth on the base. And I had remembered a conversation with Grandpa right before I left the States that he had said that anytime he had prayed for me and my two sisters, God always answered the prayers. So my comment was made kind of in jest.

A couple weeks later, I got a call in the late night. With the time difference, it was daytime in South Dakota. My mother told me that my Grandpa had died. He had suffered through some issues and they thought he was going to go, then a lot of people had showed up in town, and he kind of started to get better - almost like he was afraid he was going to miss out on something. Then as people all left the retirement home one night, when he was all alone finally, he let himself go to be with God.

I was heartbroken. I had never lost anyone before this and even though I knew he was old and failing, my youthful mind had not wrapped itself around this. I was inconsolable.

Fortunately, my Dad was able to get in touch with the Red Cross and they assisted me in getting a plane ticket to come back to the States. See, my Dad (who is my adopted father) explained to them, that when my Mother divorced my biological father when I was 4, that my Grandfather acted as a surrogate Dad for a period of time. So I was able to come home and go to his funeral.

When I got home to my Grandparents house, I was greeted by family and hugs and handshakes ensued. Finally, when the dust settled a bit, I was asked a strange question. I was asked if we had any rain in Okinawa recently. Confused, I answered that we had just had our first typhoon the week prior.

Everyone got very silent. When I asked what was up, I was told that on the day I was telling them we had a typhoon, my Grandpa was telling anyone who would listen that God had told him that He would answer his prayer to provide rain for me.

I was in shock. It's kind of hard to describe how one feels about something like this. My Grandpa, who was the absolute best thing in the world to me, used one of his dying prayers to have God provide something for me. It's just such an overwhelming feeling to know that you have a man who loves you that much, and a God who provides based on that love.