On the day my paternal grandmother passed, she opened her eyes and began to whisper the name of her first child, a daughter who had died of Spanish Flu when she was just two years old, over 70 years before.
She was speaking to her, the way a mother speaks to her child.
Her second daughter was sleeping but woke to this and knew that the end must be near, b/c she was calling their sister.
She passed w/i minutes, very peacefully.
I know she will never be a ghost, b/c her spirit is another place, but she told me many times before that death was no strong barrier at all for some.
At the time, I was only about 22, and thought it was more of her 'witch doctor', as my dad always teased her, stuff.
But she spoke the truth, as always.