My Grandfather Still Visits
The Cryptkeeper's Sister
Somewhere, Ontario, Canada
The house that my paternal grandparents owned (still in the family, my uncle owns it now) had its little quirks, but you could always tell which relative was walking down the hallway or the basement stairs by how their footsteps shifted, and how loudly or quietly they breathed from the exertion. Think old small town farm house/trailer style.
I was always around my Poppa (I was the first grandchild, so I had a little status, so to speak). I knew how it sounded when he walked, whether in the house or elsewhere.
For years after my grandfather died (1990 I think), you would hear someone climbing up the stairs or coming downstairs, but no one would be there. I kept mentioning to my grandmother and my dad that I thought Poppa was still coming to see us. I was constantly told, "It's just your imagination."
It was only recently, after spending a weekend with my uncle, that this topic came up again. He mentioned how he always heard the shuffling footsteps in the hall and on the stairs at all hours of the day.
I chimed in with, "I know exactly what you're talking about, I swear it's Poppa."
He blanched pale and said, "You've heard them too?"
He also thought it was Poppa but wasn't ready to admit it until that moment. After chatting about it at length, we clued in that it tended to happen before, during, or even after a family gathering, sometimes when one of us kids would come down for a visit. It felt like he just wanted to come and chill out with us like we used to.
We were a very close-knit family, but as members started dying off, we don't get together as often as we used to. So having these little moments, even ghostly, kinda make it both sad and lovely at the same time.