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I forgot to tell you these creepy (but also nice) stories from when my grandpa died
My mom goes to the gym on her way to work in the mornings. One day she was driving and listening to her Il Divo cd and the song that came on was Time to Say Goodbye. When it was over, it played again. Then, as it plays for a third time in a row (with absolutely no explanation), my mom decides to go visit my grandpa at the home at 6am, with tears streaming down her face thinking it must be a sign of some sort.
She gets in to see my grandpa who isn't really awake, but she sits with him for awhile and talks to him. She hadn't planned on going to see him that day. The next morning, my grandpa died. We figure that the song playing 3 times in a row was a sign that she should go see him because it might be the last time, which it was.
Second story
A couple days after the funeral my aunt decided to go to her cottage by herself for a few days, just to unwind from all that had been going on. As she was sitting on her couch she looked at her patio door and there was water dripping off the roof onto the glass door (it was way below freezing-there should have been no water outside at all), and it was running along the door in the shape of a perfect letter h. Later on she went to the bathroom and noticed that the H from the label of her Hanes underwear had fallen off and was lying on the bathroom floor.
We thought this was weird, but the letter h didn't really have any significance. Until, that is, my other aunt reminded us that first aunt had asked my grandpa to send her a letter from heaven. Aaaaand heaven begins with the letter H.
I mean, it could be a stretch, but we took comfort in his little gag. She wanted a letter and she got a literal letter.
Anyone else ever receive messages from the dead?
Re: I forgot to tell you these creepy (but also nice) stories from when my grandpa died
Wow, those gave me tears. That's amazing.
I think I told this one before, in case I haven't though.
My sister was 4 when my brother died, he was 13. With in a few days of his death my sister ran into my mom's room at night saying she talked to Alex. He was in her room at the bottom of her bed, he said he was ok now, she should be a good girl, he had to go, but he would see her later.
Background is he had a brain tumor and she doesn't remember him well. He died at home with home hospice and she was in the room. My other brother was in the other room watching TV, I was at a graduation party.
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Sounds like definite signs to me!
When my older son was 1 he had a very serious case of pneumonia and came down with a rare life-threatening reaction. The diagnosis was made in a private hospital and they needed to transfer him to an NHS hospital for treatment. Apparently there were 3 hospitals in London that had pediatric intensive care with the specialised machine he needed. He was sent to St Mary's and my grandmother, who had passed away when I was early in my pregnancy (before I even had a chance to tell her I was pregnant), and whose initial I used for my son's middle name, was named Mary. Definitely not a coincidence, in my opinion.
Following on that, she was my father's mother and the surgeon who performed my father's surgery today (in the US) is British, spent time working at St. Mary's, and knows the doctor at St Mary's whom my son still sees for outpatient follow-up. Again, more than just a small world coincidence in my mind.
Those are great stories. Even if they seem small, I've always been a person who reads into things and gets comfort from it.
Not quite the same, but I have sort of funny story from when my grandpa died years ago...
We were all at my grandma's for the funeral. It was a full house and Grandma didn't want to sleep alone, so I slept in bed with her. I was kind of nervous (I was still a teenager) because I thought that if my grandpa were going to visit anyone that night it would certainly be his wife. I kept saying, "grandpa, please don't scare me!" in my head.
Anyway, we'd always teased our grandpa about his snoring and he'd always said, "It's not me! It's Grandma!" Well, that night I heard the loudest snoring ever! Turns out it had always been grandma all along!
These are great stories! I really believe we can be touched by those close to us who have died.
My dad died when I was 16 in a car accident. Shortly after he died, I was home alone and in one of the bathrooms. I heard a distinct knock on the bathroom door, I opened it thinking my mom came home. There was no one at the door and the knocking was exactly like my dad used to knock (only with his fingertips, it was a distinct sound).
I think he "visited" a few other times, once before leaving on a trip shortly after he did, I was home alone again, and waiting for my mom to come home and our front door blew wide open (it was dead bolted). I like to think he was letting me know he wanted us to have a safe trip. Another strange event was when my mom and I moved to a new house a year after he died, I was alone in my new room, when a box I had placed on a shelf in my closest came crashing to the floor, nothing felt out and nothing was damaged, but there's no way it could have fallen without something touching it. I think it was my dad letting me know he knew we had moved. I haven't "felt" anything from him in years and nothing since living abroad.
It's funny that you say that ooolala, I hadn't heard of the story of my sister seeing my brother until she was reading "The Lovely Bones." I gave it to her for Christmas a few years ago and she said this is what Ale did to me.
In another weird conscience it takes place 2 miles from my parents house. As in when I read it I knew the streets, freaky weird.
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