In my great gramma's old age she didn't like kids very much. She wasn't always nice to the grandkids or the great-grandkids. Except me. I looked exactly like her and her daughter, so from what my mom tells me I was always her favorite. I don't remember much of her she passed in her sleep when I was 5, but one of my first memories ever is rolling down the hill behind her house. She was my father's grandmother.
A little background to kind of understand a bit more, my parents split up when I was 4. We didn't see much of him due to him being a very cruel man. So this is what I remember.
One day my great gramma (I know the spelling is wrong it's how everyone spelled it) was watching me and my younger brother Justin. She told me she was getting tired and needed to lay down a bit and she loved me and be good for mommy and daddy. Being 5 I just said, "Ok gramma, love you too" and continued to watch my cartoons.
A few hours later Justin and I were getting hungry, so I went to ask her to wake up, but she wouldn't. So being the awesome big sister I was even at that age I attempted to make something to eat for us but instead made a huge mess. When my parents got back to the house they walked in to a mess and started yelling. I then went on to tell them gramma was asleep and I couldn't wake her up, so my father went in and tried to wake her up. He started screaming to call 911, and that's all I remember.
So a few years back, I was about 22 at the time, I brought the "memory" up to my mom. She explained that her and my father weren't even together at the time, and that we were with her when we got the call stating great gramma died.
I normally have very weird very, very, very, vivid dreams that make me wonder if I was dreaming or not, which a lot of the time after the next day I forget. I have had this "memory" for as long as I can remember and still remember it like it was yesterday. When I think about it, it's as if I was thinking about what I did the previous day.
I am wondering, could this have been my great gramma coming to tell me goodbye while I was still young, or could I have known when she was passing without me being there? It still feels so very real to me no matter how many times my mom tells me different.