Here are some remarkable true stories of contact from the dead, making their presence known one last time to settle some unfinished business, deliver a message, give approval or assurance, or to say a final goodbye.

Welcome Back, Grandma

Everyone loves their grandmother, but for me she was the most important person I had ever met. I loved her so much that I found it necessary to be a part of her death. She died in my arms and it was the most important thing I had ever done. This night as I held her and she slipped away, I asked her to come back to me so I know she made it and she was happy. I am a firm believer in the afterlife and knew that if I asked her to come back, somehow she would.

When I arrived home the night she passed away, my telephone kept ringing. That in itself is not unusual; everyone gets phone calls. But do they usually get them on a phone that hasn't been plugged in for weeks? The phone rang at least 12 different times that night. It scared me to death. Worst of all, it scared my husband, who does not scare easily. My husband is a huge skeptic (or at least was).

I inherited my grandmother's mink stole and her mink-lined ball gown. The night of her funeral, I walked into my walk-in closet and noticed the scent of her perfume. I noticed it because she wore Coty's perfume, which you cannot find anymore. My husband, being the skeptic he was, said, "That isn't so weird. Her mink and gown are covered in the perfume." It was so strong that usually you could smell it even when she washed her clothes. I agreed with him and didn't give it a further thought.

Four days later, my husband and I went upstairs to our infant son's room because we heard voices on the baby monitor downstairs. We weren't all that concerned because we were unsure of what it was. We went upstairs and the teddy bear mobile over my son's crib was moving slightly, as if someone had turned it on. As my husband and I stood in the doorway of the room, a slight breeze passed us both with the overwhelming scent of Coty's perfume. My husband looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "Hi, grandma. Welcome back." From that point on, we only sense her perfume in our son's room. It is great to have her back! - by Chrissy T.

Grandpa's Final Favor

My mother and I were in my grandfather's room; he had recently died. We had gone through his room earlier looking through papers and things that he had made. It was late at night and my mom and I started talking about Sam, one of her really good friends. We had moved away from my grandparents and my mom had lost Sam's phone number. Sam was always close to my grandfather, and my mother wanted to tell her of his death. We were lying on the bed when I looked up and saw Sam's phone number written in big black numbers above his bed! The ironic thing was that we had looked through the room all day and never came across her number. Was my grandfather doing my mom a favor... or was it just a coincidence? - by Phil

Added (2008-09-29, 20:38:14)
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Mother Approves the Marriage

In December of 1980, my girlfriend (now my wife), and her two children, ages 8 and 10, had come to visit me and her sister during the Christmas holidays. One afternoon we were lying on my bed talking. We had both just come away from bad marriages about the same time the previous summer. We weren't discussing anything in particular when the subject of marriage came up. We were lying on our sides facing each other, when I saw a beautiful Native American lady in a blue dress - or had a blue aura about her - suddenly appear on the bed behind my girlfriend. The lady turned, looked at me and smiled.

"Wow!" I said, and my girlfriend went stiff in my arms. She asked me to describe what I had seen, and I told her. She told me that I had seen her mother, who had been dead for several years. I had never seen a picture of her mother, but she said that I had described her mother perfectly, and that she had been buried in a blue dress. We took this as a blessing, and three days later we were married. - by Spirit Wolf

Dad Checks Her Out

My sister Lorraine has been with her high school sweetheart, Bruce, for 13 years now. They were married in 1998 and have a precious baby daughter. At the age of 15, and approximately six months before she met Bruce, she was asleep one night in our parents' home when she was awakened by the feeling of a presence in her bedroom. She was lying on her back and opened her eyes to see a man's face suspended above hers and smiling down at her. She described a feeling of total peace and calmly smiled back at him. The face did not appear ghostly white or transparent, but rather pink and fleshly like a normal human face. He had brown hair, brown eyes and a jolly round face. She looked at him for a while and then rolled over and went back to sleep. She thought about the face for a while thereafter, but as it didn't disturb her in any way, she soon put it in the back of her mind.

A few months passed and she met Bruce. They fell instantly in love and the time came for her first visit to his home to meet his family. Bruce met her at the front door and welcomed her into the entrance hall. On the wall directly in front of her was a collection of framed family photographs. In the center of the group, and occupying the most prominent position, was a photo of Bruce's father, who she knew had died in a car accident a year earlier. It was the face she had seen months before! She turned cold and started shaking. Bruce noticed and asked her what was wrong. "Nothing," she replied, to which he responded, "You look like you've seen a ghost!" About five years later, she decided to tell him the story. Bruce just smiled, and with a tear in his eye replied, "That's typical of my father to come and check out my future wife." - by Janice B.

Grandpa Zooms Back

My dad was a talented woodworker and carpenter. When he began to have strokes and lost the feeling in his legs, he started to use a three-wheeled motorized cart instead of a wheelchair. He was a crack up. He used the thing like a motorcycle, driving all around in it. It made a distinctive whirring sound as it ran and it had a cute little beep-beep type of horn. We live in a lovely home that my dad helped me design. He didn't do the labor, but I always say he built our house. We could hear him coming up the circular drive and beep his horn whenever he wanted to visit. My son Shaun and he were close, seeing each other nearly every day.

A few months after my dad passed, my son and I were at home, he in his bed room, me in the kitchen. We both met in the entrance hallway, having heard something quite familiar: dad's cart coming up the drive and his characteristic beep-beep! We just stared at the door trying to get up the courage to open the door. Finally I opened it... to nothing. Is grandpa still coming to chat at the house he built? We think so. I have heard him several times, and it is kind of comforting. - by Carolina

Unfinished Business

This occurred sometime in the summer of 1991, when mom was selling our house. My father had died in 1988. He often climbed onto our roof to check the shingles, clear the gutters, etc. My sisters and I had rooms on the second floor, while my mom slept on the first floor. One night during the summer of 1991, all of us were asleep when we were suddenly awakened. We all came out of our rooms and asked if we had heard something. We all described the same noise - the sounds of footsteps on the roof. I had distinctly heard them over my room, and my sisters heard them coming from that same general area. Even my mom on the first floor had heard them. My mom and sisters asked me to go outside to check it out. As reluctant as I was, I went to investigate... but I brought our dog (and my dad's old rifle) with me just in case.

I grabbed a flashlight and went outside, while my sisters and mom turned on as many outside lights as possible. I circled the entire house, flashing the roof and checking the surroundings. There were only two spots from which someone could ascend the roof without help. I found nothing and no one (somewhat to my relief I might add). Plus, the sounds came from the opposite side of those accessible points - we would have heard footsteps well before we did if someone was walking across the roof. "They" would have had to cross over both my sisters' rooms - but my sisters didn't hear anything until the sounds were over my room. Even more unnerving, though, is that the sounds stopped in the middle of the roof - as if whomever was up there just vanished. To this day, we all believe it was dad taking a stroll across the roof before we sold the house. - by Steve S.

Whisperings

It was a little after 1 o'clock on a Wednesday morning. I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning and hearing all of these voices in my head. Whisperings, "pssss, pssss," all these voices talking to me all at once in my ears. It sounded like a hundred little voices talking all at once. All of a sudden, I felt something in my room. I looked around in the dark and felt a presence. I couldn't touch it or see it, but I felt it. I actually felt my bed sag like it does when someone sits on the bed to talk with you. I pulled the covers over me and felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck and asked, "Who's there?" It felt as if someone were watching me. After a while I fell asleep, but was kinda scared to be in the dark. The next day I couldn't shake the feeling of the last night's experience.

Two weeks later, my ex-husband called to tell me that our best friend Kay had died. Kay and I had become really goods friend when my husband and I lived in Oklahoma City. She was like a mother to me. Since my mother lived in New York and I was in my 20s, Kay kinda of took the position of mother to me. John told me that Kay had died in the early hours of a Wednesday morning. Suddenly I knew that my friend had come to say goodbye to me. It was Kay who was with me when she passed! Those voices were angels talking to me. - by Sandra M.

Shirley Saves Her Brother

My mom told me of this story, and she still cries when she tells it. It has never been explained. My sister, Shirley (the firstborn), died of Downs Syndrome at the age of two in 1961. She had holes in her heart. Almost two years later, my mother had a baby boy, my brother, Steven. One day in 1962, my mom was up in the attic doing some work, and my dad was in the basement in his workshop. Steven was supposedly napping in a playpen (age one) in the den. My mom heard, clear as day, Shirley's voice saying, "Dadda! Dadda!" ...and it was as though she were right there next to her in the attic. Clear as day. My dad heard the SAME THING down in his workshop. "Dadda! Dadda!" They both say it was distinctly Shirley's voice. Loud and clear. Dad ran up to tell mom, mom ran to tell dad. They both ran into the den, and there was baby Steven with a plastic sheeting of dry cleaner's covering that he had reached for on the couch - and he was suffocating. Mom and dad both told us later on that it could not have been Steven calling them; he called my dad, "daddy" not "dadda," and it was not his voice. They are convinced to this day that it was Shirley warning them that her brother was suffocating. - by Donna B.

By Steven Wagner