I was only 2 when my grandparents came to live with us. Grandma was very ill and since Grandpa wasn't physically able to do much, he would sit for hours teaching me to read, write, add, subtract and play Gin Rummy. (Thanks to Grandpa, I was a 4 year old card shark!)

Over the next 3 years, my Grandpa and I developed a bond that allowed him to reach out to me from beyond the grave. On the night my Grandpa died, just shortly before the hospital called to let us know, he called to me from down the hall. I looked down the hallway and there he stood in his old timey night shirt and old fashioned sleep cap. He waved to me and blew me a kiss. That may have been the last time I physically saw my Grandpa, but it was not the last time I felt his presence in my life.

Over the next 16 years, whenever things would seem to be the darkest, I would hear Grandpa walk down the hall. The sounds would stop outside my door and I'd hear his voice softly telling me everything would be alright.

Late in 1979, I was pregnant with what was to be my only child. A neighbor known to have some fairly serious mental problems suddenly appeared in my dining room one day wanting me to walk to the store with her. I didn't feel up to it, which made her mad. She ran across the room with her fist drawn back to hit me.

Just as she got 1 step from me, grandpa reached out from beyond the grave and knocked her backwards across the room. As she was picking herself up from the floor, she was pushed again and again until she was out of the house, at which point the front door slammed.

Grandpa doesn't visit me anymore. He's taken on the most important work of being guardian angel to my only child, just like he guarded me till the day my child was born.

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