When I was about 7 or 8 years old my Grandpa died. He was sort of a hard man, who showed very little affection, but my parents always told me that he had a special place in his heart for me because he was always very loving and playful with me. My dad said he thought that when I was born, my Grandpa woke up, and when I was with him, he was the man he was supposed to be. The night that he died I was sleeping in my room.
I woke up suddenly for no particular reason and I immediately saw my Grandpa sitting at the end of my bed. He did not say anything, he just sat and smiled at me. I smiled back and he reached out with one hand and laid it on my leg. I remember feeling very calm, happy and safe. Then my grandpa got up and walked to the door where he turned and looked at me one last time before leaving my room. I jumped out of bed and followed him and when I walked around the corner into the hall, he was gone.
I went out to the kitchen where my mom was talking on the phone and crying. When she finally hung up the phone she explained to me that my Grandpa had passed away about an hour earlier.