My paternal grandfather was a no-nonsense kind of guy. When he made a decision, that was it. There was no changing his mind.

Everything was usually done on his terms. When he died in 1994, as a result of septicemia, I just knew that was the plan. (Yeah, I know you can't PLAN on septicemia, but you didn't know my grandfather.) He was 88 and had outlived all five of his siblings. I have a feeling somewhere along the way, THAT was the plan, as well.

In 1984, my parents added an apartment to the back of our old house over on Sunrise Drive. It was built so Daddo (we called him Daddo) could live out the rest of his life conveniently right next to my parents, without actually living WITH them. He would never have wanted that.

After he passed away, I was over in his apartment looking through some of his old photo albums. While I was standing next to this enormous old desk that he had built, I felt someone tap on my right shoulder. It startled me since I knew I was the only one in the house at the time.

It was even more startling when I discovered no one was there. I mean I turned right around, and unless it was The Flash, someone who was really NO ONE tapped me on the shoulder.

A couple of weeks later, my sister, my dad and I were sitting in my parents living room when we heard something fall in the bathroom. It was pretty loud.

When we got in there, we found the wall clock lying on the floor. The nail on which it had been hanging was still in place...and still at an upward angle. So it could not have just SLID off the nail onto the floor. It was a flathead nail, too, so there's that.

We just stood around the clock for a few moments looking at it like it was some alien creature that had made its way into the bathroom. We hung it back up on its nail and it never happened again. And I've never again been tapped on the shoulder by someone who wasn't there, for which I am very thankful.

We chalked it up to my grandfather not wanting to be left out of any discussions and therefore had made his presence known.

And felt.

I have a deal with ghosts. I'm fine as long as I don't ever SEE any of them. I have no way of knowing how I'd process that.

By the way, we just passed the 26th anniversary of Daddo's death, just a few days ago.

Good old October.

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