My great-grandmother was born in 1920. She was always happy and cheery and she was also a GREAT cook. My family has italian origins, which means she was italian. She loved cooking italian stuff like canolis and delicious pizza. Unfortunately, she died when she was 94, four months ago.
I'm really into the paranormal, but I had never had a relative die in my family that was so close to me. I was in school, and she died at 9:20, which is weird because she was born in 1920. That's not the weird part. When she died, I was in Social Studies class, and I started feeling very nauseous and sick and had a big headache. My great-grandma, her name was Ada, was really sick and her lungs were filled with liquids. I threw up liquids. When I got home, I didn't tell my mom because she never believed me anyways. She was crying and all of my family was gathered around the living room when I got home. She told me that she had died and I, of course, was DEVASTATED.
She told me to dress up because we were going to the funeral. Everything was planned because we knew she wouldn't live long. Everyone was crying and everyone was sad. After the funeral, I got into my mom's car with her boyfriend (my parents are divorced) and I swear I saw a blond woman with blue eyes (that's how my Ada was when she was young) smiling at me. I stared at her for a couple of seconds before she left.
When I got home, I tried to communicate with her and placed letters and signs (I basically made a Ouija board at home). I talked to her and she said that she loved me and that she was sorry about her lungs. She also said she was happy with her long-lost husband, and that she would see me when I got to heaven. She said that she had been told that she was my guardian angel, and that she would stick with me and make sure I was fine. She told me she loved me but she had to go. I said goodbye and cried.
That's my most recent story, and my first on this website. I hope you like it and you remember those who you have lost. They're not gone. They will always be in your heart.