The Night Grandpa Came to Say Goodbye

I grew up with my family in California while my grandparents resided in Arizona. They had immigrated to the United States from Lithuania before my Dad was born, as they wanted to provide a better life for their children as they grew up.

At first, they lived in Chicago, where they raised their family, but once the kids were grown, they opted for the warmer skies and the slower pace of Phoenix. Although I didn't really know them, I knew of them from the various stories my parents would tell me.

One night, when I was three years old, I fell asleep snuggled under my covers after my Mom read me a bedtime story, only to awaken to see my Grandpa standing in my room. He was dressed for summer, wearing an Izod-type shirt, plaid Bermuda shorts, and sandals.

Grandpa stood there with the biggest smile on his face, eagerly waving at me. I felt thrilled and excited to see him and immediately smiled and waved back. I couldn't believe my Grandpa was here! As happy as I was, I was also still very sleepy, and I quickly drifted back to sleep.

In the morning, I got up, eagerly trotted down the hallway, and headed to the kitchen where my parents were having their morning coffee and reading the daily newspaper. I was quite excited and couldn't wait to tell them how Grandpa came to see me last night.

I blurted out my happy news, and at that moment, my Mother had a very solemn look come over her face, and she calmly turned to me and asked how I knew it was Grandpa, as I hadn't seen him since I was a baby. I all knowingly told her I knew it was him from the pictures we had around the house.

At the same time, my Dad froze with almost a blank look on his face, and nearly dropped his coffee cup. As it turned out, that morning, he had received a phone call from his Mother telling him that his Dad had passed away during the night.

Many years have passed since I saw my Grandpa. I can no longer make out the details of his face or feel the warmth of his smile. I feel sad knowing that I was never able to have a conversation with him to learn more about him, his life in Lithuania, or hear funny stories about my Dad when he grew up.

What is important to me is that he cared enough to find a way not only to come to see me, but to allow me to have one last visit with him.

I'm one of those people who happen to believe that when we die, a part of us lives on. I think of it as our soul. Was it the ghost of my Grandpa who visited me that night? That's what I believe. I know I wasn't dreaming, and it seems like too big a coincidence for me to just happen to imagine seeing him on the night he passed away.

What about you? Do you believe in ghosts, and if so, have you ever seen the spirit of a loved one after they passed away?

Sadly, I never saw my Grandpa again after that night, but I'm so grateful for the memory I have of him. I will forever have a special place in my heart for my Grandpa, and how special I felt that I had a chance to see him in my room. That night will always be a beautiful memory for me, as that's the night my Grandpa came to say goodbye.