Even though I was only 9 years old then, I still remember every word my mother used when she told me this story.. My maternal grandmother died at 49 years of age, from cancer, only a few months before i was born. She had had a hard life, working continuously to raise 3 children on her own because my grandfather had passed away just after 5 years of marriage. When I was 8, we all moved to live in Malaysia becuase of my father's job. The first time mom, my brother, and I went back to my mother's home town, we slept in my grandmother's house. It was old, but clean, and the only 2 bedrooms were very cramped. The queen sized bed in the master bedroom faced a big window, which overlooks a tiny courtyard shared with the neighbors. We were all excited to go back to mom's hometown, and that night, my brother, mom and I all slept in the same bed. 'At about midnight, I woke up to hear some chains being dragged on the gravel pavement outside,' she recalls ' It would drag on and off, on and off, as if it was attached to someone's foot, who was having trouble walking because of that. I got scared, and prayed for it to go away. It did. Even though the footsteps seemed to pass right in front of the window, I didn't see any shadows. The moonlight still poured through the windows. I wanted to wake you and your brother, but you two didn't seem to notice anything, and were sleeping like logs, so I couldn't bear to wake you up. A few minutes later, I could hear a faint whisper of someone calling me, like my mother used to. 'Ah Ying, Ah Ying!' It was very soft, but as it got louder, it seemed to come right from the foot of the bed. But STILL I didn't see anything. I was scared, so i kept praying and praying. The calling came closer, and clearly it was my mother's voice. But the voices faded away quickly just as fast as they had came. I laid awake for a few hours after that, regretting having prayed. I wanted to see my mother, I miss my mother. She had such a kind soul...' Both my brother and I knew that it was my grandmother, although I've never seen her before. I often think about her, and tried to imagine what she was like from the few photos that I've seen... My mother has never heard or seen her mother in her dreams again after that. But somehow, some way, she knows that my grandmother is safe and happy where she is now... How it changed my life:After mom told us about her experience, I have realized that sometimes when I'm by myself and thinking about what kind of person grandma would have been, I'd get this strange, warm feeling like she was close to me, holding me, and telling me that she is good, and that I should not worry. I would start crying, and sometimes say outloud that she deserved to live longer. The warm feeling would leave slowly after awhile, and I would be okay. I guess she really HAS been with me all those times...
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