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Grandpa’s ghost

Hello everybody. First of all – I am sorry for my English, it’s not my first language.
So, when I was 3 years old, my maternal grandfather died from a cardiac arrest (he was around 60, so his death was unexpected). Since then, weird things started to happen. My mom remembers that I was playing around the place where he died and I would say “Mommy, somebody is walking around here”- to clarify, we were on holiday in my grandparents house and I was the last person he talked to.

Also, when his body was in the morgue and the family was getting ready for the funeral, the ring to the house door started to ring. My father was standing next to the window and checked the door but nobody was there. It happened 3 times within couple of minutes, then a guy from the hospital came and said that the due to something happening with the body, the coffin had to be closed. We assume that the grandfather came to say goodbye to us, as we would never see his face again.

My grandma’s neighbor saw him once in my grandma’s kitchen. My grandma heard his voice from the garage. She even communicated with him – she did not know where some documents about the house were. She prayed and then she dreamed about him – he revealed that in the cellar there is kind of a secret place and the documents would be there. The next day grandma checked and everything was true! My grandma had no idea about this secret spot.

All this is not that creepy, so let’s go to my story.
Since my grandpa’s death, I was always afraid to sleep in one particular room in my grandma’s house. I had a very strong feeling that the grandpa was standing in the corner of the room. I would always ask my parents to sleep in the room with them but they would never accept. The feeling continued during years and it was terrifying. I was always taking walkman to the bed with me and sleep with a pillow over my head.
The “ghost” was not visible and was not moving but the feeling of his presence was very strong. My mom kept repeating me that grandpa loved me and he would not hurt me but still, I never wanted to deal with it…

Years have passed. I was 25 when my mother was checking some old papers and she found there a small poem that my grandfather wrote to me when I was 2 years old. He described there his love for me, he promised we would play together and all those sweet things.
Believe me or not but since then, the creepy feeling I had in my grandma’s house disappeared.

I believe him – or some part of him – waited all those years for me to find the poem and realize how loved I was.



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