A few months ago, my mom, my aunt and i were having an estate sale at my grandma’s house, who had died last december. I couldn’t stand to watch my grandmothers possesions being sold to complete strangers. So when an old throw of hers was being sold to a particularly creepy old man who wreaked of beer, i ran up to my grandmas closet in her bedroom and hid in the closet and cried for a few hours. The reason i chose that place is because the ashes of both of my grandparents were in there. My mom had insisted that the urns would scare people out of buying the house. I heard my aunt searching the upstairs for me, so i leaned my head against my grandmas urn and whispered, “please make them leave me alone, grandma.” Everything was quiet from then on, and i had figured thatshe gave up and let me. I came out hours later and went downstairs. My aunt was furious and asked me where i had been. I told her i had been in the closet the entire time. She gave me an odd look and told me that she had checked that closet several times and called my name throughout the whole house. I know that i was in plain view of anyone ho had looked in there, and i never heard her come anywhere near the closet. No one believes me, but i honestly couldn’t care less. I keep my grandmothers urn at my bedside ever since that day. I dont ask anything of her, but the thought that she still watches over me is comforting.
Credit To: lynn lash