Come With Me, My Son
When I was about 14, I witnessed my Uncle Jerry’s passing. He had lung cancer, and we brought him home so that he could go peacefully. At some point, I got a very strong mental image of a man leaning against the wall, with his arms and legs crossed, watching Jerry slowly fade.
He was wearing a brown suit and was very tall and lean. I told my mom and aunt about what I was imagining—explaining that it was just something that popped into my head. Their faces went white and they started crying. “Your grandfather used to stand like that. And he wore a brown suit to work.”
This person I saw had been Jerry’s father, and he had perished way before I was born. I don’t know where this vision came from, but it definitely meant a lot to my mom and aunt. Story credit: Reddit / (nickfinnftw)