When I was younger, I don’t even remember how young, other than that I was younger than 8, my older sister, my two cousins (that were siblings) and I were very close. We often had sleepovers, even though one of my cousins was a guy, and the rest of us were girls.
Well, we were having one of those sleepovers, at their house, where we would all sprawl across their fold out mattresses in their big living room, and watch Mighty Ducks until we fell asleep. As usual, I was the last person to fall asleep, but this time was different. I had watched all of Mighty Ducks, even though I had seen it so many times already, and checked the clock at least twice. The last time I had checked the clock, it was past 1 AM, I think. When I finally happened to fall asleep, I only got about 5 or 6 hours of sleep, because as always, we wanted to get breakfast (which their mom was a master at making!).
That day, I don’t even think I knew what day it was at that point, is one of the most memorable events in my life, because instead of waking up to the smell of homemade French toast and chocolate pancakes, we woke up and saw my Aunt (she isn’t my blood relative, these cousins are my moms bro’s kids), looking sad, and waiting for us to wake up. She told us that our cousins grandpa, the one that wasn’t ours too, had died. His name was Mr. T, and I loved him a lot, like my own grandpa.
I had told my cousin (the girl, who is younger than me) that I knew how it felt, because I had a third Grandpa who had died (I know that I have a third, my parents are divorced, and my dad got remarried, so my step-moms dad is like my grandpa). I hadn’t realized until now, that the real third grandpa I was talking about was Mr. T.
To this day, if I feel bad, or sad, or I’m thinking of that day, I feel a chill go through me, or warmth go through me, or some other odd feeling go through me. I think it’s because Mr. T is watching over my cousins, my sister, and I. I still think, to this day, that the reason I couldn’t fall asleep past 1 AM was that I can’t fall asleep when someone I know and love is hurting or dying.
Years later I had moved into a new house half way through third grade, and lived a half mile away from my grandparents. My grandma’s back had been hurting for ages, but she thinks that cracking someone’s back is the same as breaking it, so refused to let that, or getting a massage, happen.
One night, I woke up at 5-something AM. I don’t remember the exact time anymore, though. The next morning, my grandma, who would come over every morning so my mom could go to work early in the morning, didn’t come. I didn’t find out til that afternoon that the reason she wasn’t there was that she had fallen on her way to the bathroom, at the same time that I woke up.
I have this habit of talking in my mind as if I’m talking to someone who died, and I really think it works, because, an hour later, I was still awake, and telling ‘Mr. T’, God, and everyone else up there that cared, about how my grandma’s back had been getting horrible. As it happens, my grandma had been yelling for my half-deaf grandpa for an hour. Then, he miraculously actually heard her, and called my uncle (my blood-related uncle) and they got her to a hospital, on a stretcher, after getting an ambulance for her.
My grandma is perfectly healthy and can bend her back without it hurting. I seriously think that Mr. T saved her!
Sent in by Katie, Copyright 2009 BestOfAllTopics.com