A bit of background. In 2004, my grandma died. In early 2007, I moved 8 hours away, we used to live in the same town and I'd visit every day before we moved. I was extremely close to my grandma and grandpa. Around Easter of 2013, my grandpa had a fifth stroke and was taken into long-term care. In September last year, he died.
My grandparents' home was built by them, way back in the day. It was a very open home, up in the hills, overlooking a marina. The whole left backside of the house (the right side overlooked the marina, the left side was against a high brick wall. The front just contained a driveway but the back was on a hill, so you could go up a hidden set of stairs, where you'd be equal to the height of the roof, and there was a large and empty pool there) connected by a large glass door to the loungeroom area. It was the longest side of the house, and on that side was in order from front to back: a bedroom, toilet, bathroom, kitchen, loungeroom, laundry, then my grandpa's room. In between the wall of the house and the brick wall boundary, was a long garden. The wall of the garden was about waist height, and the top was covered with a greenhouse type plastic. It was about 20ft long, but only 5ft from the house, and the floor was concrete. My grandma used to care for this garden, she loved gardening, but after she died, it became overgrown with weeds.
When my grandpa was taken into a home, me and my parents drove up to stay with my aunt (who still lived in the same town) so we could pack up the home, clean it up, get it ready for resale so we could afford full-time care at a home, and of course see my grandpa.
We spent most of the time at my grandpa's home, sort of a "this is the last you'll ever see of it" vibe. It was just me, my aunt, and my parents. They were all on the patio on the other side of the house (overlooking the marina) and I could barely hear them chatting. I was in the toilet when I started to hear humming. The same tune I heard my grandma hum in all the home movies of her cooking or gardening (she had been in the hospital almost all my life due to cancer, and I was pretty young so I can't remember her being at home). I went out to the garden after finishing my business, but there was nobody there. The humming stopped when I opened the door to the garden, but nobody was in the garden. If somebody were to leave the garden, I would have seen them, as I was standing in the only exit/entry to the garden.
Within the next few days, with no tending to the garden, somehow the plants began to grow again and most of the weeds died off. We still had to garden a bit before it looked good, but the garden healing really gave us a kickstart. The wall was not near any other home, so there's nobody that could have been singing.
About a month or two after my grandpa passed, I went to a market type thing to make some extra cash. I had my little stall set up, a few folding camping tables in front of the back of my car, where I was sitting. It's a Subaru Forester, so I could open the boot and just sit down. A few hours in, I noticed a man walking around. I kid you not, I almost immediately recognised him. He looked identical to my grandpa, about 5-10 years ago. Even had the same clothes and tattoos, the same rings. He looked at me, I was completely frozen. I didn't know what to think. Now, I'm not a model granddaughter. I've done some pretty dumb things, I'm pagan (but don't believe in an afterlife, a god, etcetera. I just follow the "do what you will but bring harm to none" command, and have mostly the same beliefs), I'm alternative, I'm certainly not straight, and I've dabbled in some "dangerous" activities, but when he looked at me, he just sort of smiled, and slightly nodded. He turned to go to another row of stalls, and I was unfrozen. I got up and practically ran over to him, but I couldn't see him anywhere. I couldn't have been the only person who saw him, as others walked around him as if he were a regular person, but he looked EXACTLY like my grandfather, right down to the tattoos, and I couldn't find him again.
I often wonder why I experienced these things instead of my parents, but I was always the closest to my grandparents out of my family. I saw them almost every day until I moved, but even then I emailed my grandpa regularly and video chatted with him.
What I do know, is that I saw my grandpa, and he saw me, months after his death. And I heard my grandma, years after her death. And I love them both.
Would I be right in my presumption that Grandpa had a rebellious streak, too?
NO matter our age, or the peculiarities of our decisions, we sometimes get disapproval from our parents' generation, "I raised you to be...," while our grandparents' generation nods approvingly at our desire to avoid conformity, "Good for you, kiddo!"
Best,
Biblio.