This is really my mother's story, but she's told it to me over and over, so I know it well. This took place in Mulberry Grove, Illinois. My mother was named after her own grandma and loved her very much (she was my great-grandma, obviously, though I never knew her. This happened before I was born). While mom was in high school, great-grandma became very ill with a tumor in her abdomen. This happened in the 1930s when medicine was not so advanced, so basically they just called it "a lump". It may have been cancer. Every day, my mom would rush home from school to take care of her grandma, smooth her pillow, give her a drink of water, and sit with her. Great-grandma was being cared for in my mom's bed in the home of one of her daughters (there were six of them!), since she was so sick.
Eventually great-grandma died, of course. After a couple of days my mom began to sleep in her own bed again -- the one great-grandma had died in. One morning, she awoke and saw great-grandma floating in the room above the floor. With her hand on her belly, she spoke and said, "See, Evie, the lump is gone and I feel so much better now!" Then she disappeared (Evalina was the name of both of them).
My mother is still alive and as sharp as two tacks at the age of 86, and would tell me the same story in a heartbeat if I ask her about it. And no, she is NOT flaky nor prone to a lot of visions in general.