Connecting to Eternal DNA

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My maiden name is Lewis, but growing up, I did not know what my maiden name represented. You see, when I was ten months old, my father passed away. He was only 25 and studying at Anderson College just about 20 miles north of Indianapolis.

Because my mother would never talk about him, I leaned on the paternal side of my family to get information about my dad. I learned he was very bright, that he loved to write, and that he planned to be a minister. Another relative told me my dad had never met a stranger and was also very giving.

But nobody would tell me how my father died. I did eventually figure out that his death had something to do with an anesthesia he had during a surgery because everyone in the family would say how careful you had to be about anesthesia. But that’s all I knew.

And nobody would tell me where he was buried.

At 11 and 12, I would ride my bike through all the local cemeteries. I thought if I could just find my father’s headstone, maybe I could learn more about who he was and who I was. Everyone always told me I was so much like him. I felt I just needed to make some connection with my father to be whole.

I never did find his grave as a child, but that desire to find it continued with me into my thirties. Then one of my father’s brothers, Uncle Luther, came back to live near the family. I asked him if he would show me where my father was buried. He asked if I was sure I wanted to know, and I said yes.

So I, my husband, my uncle, and my cousin got in our van, and my Uncle Luther drove us to Steelton, Pennsylvania, close to Three Mile Island. There we drove up a hill to a huge old cemetery surrounded with a tall, wrought-iron fence. Once inside, we had to choose to go either right or left.

My Uncle Luther looked around at the massive trees and grounds before us. He hadn’t been there in years and really couldn’t remember where my dad’s grave was, but he thought it was off to the right.

We hadn’t been driving very long in that direction when out of my mouth suddenly came, “Uncle Luther, stop the van. Stop it right here!” When he did, I got out and started walking in a straight line toward a big, beautiful tree in the distance. It was strange. Almost like I was in a trance, I was compelled in that direction. My family left the van where it was and followed behind me.

I occasionally looked from side to side as I walked, but I never deviated from where I was headed. Then, when I got close to the tree, I just stopped. Then I just felt to look down to my left. And there, flush with my foot, was my father’s headstone.

I think my family that was there with me expected me to freak out or fall apart after so many years of wishing and wondering, but I didn’t. I just knelt down and touched the face of my dad’s tombstone.

“I finally found you.”

When I did, I felt a whole circling of connection, like I didn’t have to wonder about who I was anymore. My father had been a Christian who wanted to speak and write and I felt like, that day, God landed me right where he wanted me to be so I could pick up where my father left off.

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 Cynth’ya Lewis Reed is a businesswoman, author, and mentor whose faith and resilience shine through decades of service, healing, and empowerment. She and her husband run a travel and wellness agency called Better than Donuts, and they also have a YouTube channel by the same name.