My grandfather, Malcolm, died November 15, 1999 of cancer. Before he died, the greatest comfort he could recieve was his family telling him that he would take a boat to the "other side" and be reunited with his dog (a German Sheppard) who died back in the late 1960's. When he died, my daughter, Hanna, was only 10 months. She doesn't remember anything about him or his death.
Shortly after his death on his wife Liesbeth's birthday, we had a small celebration with birthday cake and of course candles. When the candles were blown out, they re-lit. They were not trick candles. I personally made sure. This happened three times before Liesbeth said "Now Malcolm! You go away!" The candles stayed out.
At Thanksgiving the following year at my Uncle Steve's trailer the television turned itself on and off several times until Liesbeth again said "Go away Malcolm!" We all laughed and no one believed that it was really him. There had to be some sort of explanation.
At the age of about 18 months, Hanna began to talk really well for her age and was able to speak in full sentences. She began to talk to what I thought was herself or an imaginary friend. I thought it was cute as I had one when I was little. When she was about 2 years old, she was playing in her room and I heard her talking to someone. I asked who she was talking to and she said "Malcolm." A bit freaked out I called my mom into the room and she too asked Hanna who she was talking to. Again, Hanna said Malcolm was there with his big doggy.
To this day, she talks to him and his dog. He sends little messages to us through her like "I love you."
It's comforting to know that he's always around looking in on her.
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