My Grandmother and Great-Aunt rented a house during World War II that they swore was haunted. My Great Uncle was a spy/interpreter so he had access to some things that was harder for the average GI to get... like silk stockings. Anyway, Alice & Grandma Helen noticed that things were missing (like the stockings and their grocery money) pretty often, so they locked them up in a box. Only the two of them had keys. No dice... they'd open the box and it would have been cleaned out. Then they started hearing heavy footsteps in the night going up and down the stairs and through the hallway, cold breezes where there was no explanation for them, etc. They did a bit of research and learned that there had been a murder/suicide in the house and promptly moved out. Suddenly they realized why the house had been such a good deal and why no one stayed there very long.
Grandma Helen passed away in January of this year at 101 years old. My Mom went to visit her in the hospital when she was in her final days and happened to hit a time when she was very lucid (she lived by herself until 3 months before she died and she was never senile or otherwise batty, except for the last week or so before she passed away in which she was in-and-out of it). Anyway, in a very lucid moment she told my Mom how the father of my cousin-by-marriage, whom she'd only met once or twice, had come to visit her and told her that it was ok to move on to the "other side." In Grandma Helen's trademark logical way she went on to say to my Mom: "Well, at first I couldn't figure out why the 'Other Side' didn't send your father or even Bob (my Dad), but then I realized that I probably would have thought I hallucinated that. Uncle Jack though? I barely knew him. Random." It seemed to ease her mind though, which was nice.
I kinda like the idea of an emissary being sent to usher you off to your next plane of existence. I think Grandma Helen did too. She was pretty psyched to get outta here by the end and see what was next anyhow.