This event took place in April of 1993, one year after my mother Sally had passed away, she was 42 when she died. My son Kyle who was born in February of 1991 was my mothers pride and joy, as he was the only grandchild. When my mother found out she only had a few months to live, she said that she wanted to make it to Kyles first birthday. She made it by one day, and luckily she did get to see him one last time on the day that she passed away. So now back to the night in April of 1993.

Kyle was staying with me for the weekend as his mother and I weren't together anymore, so I did the usual things you do with a two year old. We played and he watched kids videos, and right before I put him to bed I gave him his bath. I let him sleep in my bed that night as his room was at the other end of the house and I thought he might get scared in there as he sometimes did. Well I woke up in the middle of the night and Kyle wasn't in bed, so I got up and walked out into the living room, only to find him sitting on the couch talking to someone who isn't there. I turned on the light and asked him who he was talking to and he said Grandma Sally. Needless to say this sparked my interest, but I wanted to keep it low key as not to alarm him. So I told him to tell Grandma Sally that it was time to go back to bed. Which he did, and promptly ran down the hallway and back into my bed. Well at this point I'm freaked out, yet also very interested in what had just happened. I asked Kyle only one question, and that was, "what was Grandma Sally wearing?" His response, "a pink dress". That was the color of the dress my mother was buried in.

Kyle did not attend the funeral and to my knowledge had no clue about what she was buried in. Is this just a coincidence? I don't know, but even I have heard her voice in the night calling out my name. Kyle is now 16 and has no recollection of the incident, but I can tell you, that there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about that night in April 1993.