My Brief Encounter With My Grandma’s Spirit

After my grandmother’s death, we renovated the room where she spent her last days, sick and in bed.

The whole room was repainted, the bed changed, and even the arrangement of the furniture was different, breathing new life into the echoes of my grandma’s presence.

In a clandestine effort, my parents were preparing a surprise for me. That room was to become my own, and only I would sleep there—finally, a cherished space to call my own.

I remember exactly how my bed was rearranged, and I could see the faint light from under the door creeping in in case someone was still awake at night.

There was also a big window on the top of the door, so anyone could see if I was keeping a light on or not.

The memory of my grandma was still fresh. Many times, I found myself in heartfelt conversations with both her and God, pouring out my thoughts and emotions as if to a presence that could comfort the young me.

I was very much immersed in a child-fantasy relationship with the idea of believing in miracles, in life after death, and all the beautiful possibilities beyond.

My imagination was also abundant and still developing through all the books I was reading. I was 12 years old at the time.

The brief encounter

One morning, very early, when the house was still cold and dark, I woke up to prepare to go to school.

I was usually sleeping on my usual side of the bed, the right side.

One moment, I could see my grandma’s dark, soft figure sitting on the bed with her back towards me. She was a presence that could be felt—a breath of foggy air and shade. The shade of my grandma was somehow watching over me. I was not afraid, but I was mesmerized and deeply moved.

The next moment, she was not there anymore, and I was left with my mouth agape, crying, thinking how unfair the world was that my beloved grandma was not alive and well anymore with us.

The meaning

Yet, I knew that she had come to give me a sign—that she would always be with me. I knew it in my heart and have kept it forever since then.

So, ghosts? I do believe in them to some extent. Yet I am wary and careful of troubled souls that might be stuck in our world looking for something forever.

I hope my grandma has found peace, finally, beyond death, because her life was quite rough and unfair from many points of view.

But why do we encounter ghosts?

I think some people are more prone to feeling the energies around them and, hence, are also able to feel other presences beyond our living world.

Otherwise, it might not be our choice, but rather a combination of factors, emotions, and a belief in the paranormal. I leave you with the quote below, and I hope to also read your stories about ghosts.

“In the words of sociologist Christopher Bader, “The first requirement for there being a ghost in the house is someone believing there’s a ghost in the house.” Our perception of what is going on around us at any given moment is driven by our expectations, needs, and beliefs, and this is especially true when the sensory information we are receiving is sketchy and ambiguous.” From Psychology Today

I used one of the prompts from SSS Weekly Prompts Week 3. Check them all out and write your own story. We would be more than happy to read, publish, and promote it in Simple Story Seekers.

2. Do you believe in ghosts? If yes, share if you ever saw a ghost or believed you saw one.

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***I originally published this story on Medium.***

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