About eight years ago my grandmother Mary died of heart failure. We - the grandkids and our parents - were extremely close to her, and till this day we have a hard time dealing with her sudden and very saddening death.
About a few weeks after Grandma had died, and was buried, I was over at my Aunt's home visiting. My two cousins and I had been sitting in the living room talking - their little brother had been asleep at this time but we heard him talking in his sleep. We rubbed it off as him dreaming until he woke up and we asked him who he was talking to. He of course said, "I was talking with Gramma..." We shrugged it off until later when we told their mom what had happened. My Aunt asked Chris if he had seen Grandma, and if so, what was she wearing. Chris went on to say Gramma was wearing her pink dress and she didn't have her glasses on, so she couldn't see real well, and her fingernails were painted to match the dress. Shocked as we were, Chris wasn't even at the funeral home when we had the service, and no one had told him what she was wearing. My Aunt proceeded to find a picture of Grandma with the same dress she was buried in, and a few others, telling her son to point out which one Grandma was wearing - he pointed to the exact one she was buried with.
About a few weeks after that, I had been driving home from a friends house and decided to go past Grandma's old house. I knew Grandpa was still there, so seeing the lights on wasn't a shock or anything. The road they lived on was in the country, had a few farms, and they had lots of neighbors down the winding road, along with the cemetery where Grandma was laid to rest. My mom had put up one of those candles that burns for days - she says so Grandma has her light to see - As I was driving past I saw what appeared to be someone waving at me. Good lord I didn't get scared or anything, just slammed on the brakes! Now were Grandma is buried isn't very far from where my car was at this time, and their's a locked gate that you have to open JUST RIGHT in order to get in. Not alot of people are buried there, so you know alot of people don't know how to get the gate open - but my mom and I do, as does my sister and cousins. Anyways, so I smiled and waved back, and headed home for the night.
The next morning I went back to the cemetery with my mom (who was extremely close to her mother-grandma) I sat by the stone and cried - how much I missed her, how she wouldn't be at my graduation that year, How she was going to teach me how to crochet scarves and afghans - I put my hand on the stone and it proceeded to get warmer by the touch, so I knew my grandma was there with me. Years have gone by, I still see her every now and then - I joined the military, got married, and my husband, although he had never met my grandma, says I talk to her every once in awhile when there's no one else in the room (he hears me talking to "myself") I still miss her more every day, but she really didn't leave me, she's always here with me.
Thank you for reading my experiences - I only hope that they never stop.