This took place weeks, maybe 2, after the death of my great-grandmother. Her death really rocked our family hard because she’d been the real matriarch for so long. I was only 13 at the time of her death and it was the first time I’ve ever lost someone so close to me.
Anyhow, I decided to go over to her home one weekend and hang out with cousins that I was raised with thanks to my great-grandma. We were all gathered in the living room, all five of us girls sitting on the couches, and nothing had changed. The chair she always sat in was still pulled out at the angle where she would drop into it to look over all of us.
The spot she sat at the table still had her clutter of things, a big yellow mug she would drink her decaf-coffee out of, pens, one of her bibles, and numerous other trinkets. It was hard for us to look over there and not see her sitting.
This was the first night we had all really gathered to see each other again so we decided to share stories about her, we all called her Grandma. Grandma wasn’t always the nicest and she had our days but she raised us nonetheless as best she could and loved us.
The couches were set in a way where one was against the middle of the wall and the other joined at the top end to form a sort of “L” shape. One of my cousin’s joined me on the couch that stuck out. We were chatting away when our oldest cousin’s eyes grew large and she gasped, scurrying away from us at the farthest point of the couch. Being young girls, we all let out shrieks and ran to join her, huddling close.
It was often that this particular cousin would play pranks on us and that was where my mind immediately went when I started to calm down. I yelled at her, “What’s wrong with you?” She replied, “I think I saw Grandma.” That upset me.
It wouldn’t have been fair or funny for her to joke around like that and I opened my mouth to tell her so. As I did, now facing the direction where she said she saw our Grandma, I saw something that was almost a white mist form. It was more opaque than just mist and almost took on a form. Just as quickly as it came, it went.
I’m not sure if it was a coincidence or not but this all happened in front of another of my Grandma’s bible, always opened and changed to whatever scripture she saw fit for that particular day. We were all too afraid to get up and see what it was but eventually our great-grandpa, Papa, came in worried. He changed it to Psalm 23:4.
While it was somewhat comforting that she might have come to say her goodbyes, none of us slept well that night.