Grandma Lily

Note: This is a true story, over ten years after it happened.

Every year my mom's side of the family holds a family reunion at my Auntie Linda's and Uncle Joe's house near Algonquin, Illinois, which is not too far from Chicago itself. I'm not quite sure how long these reunions have been going on, I'm only guessing sometime since the last of my Uncle and Auntie Linda's kids moved out in the 80's or 90's. My mom was the youngest of the girls in a family of eight, and I believe she was the second or third youngest overall. My Auntie Linda was the oldest. This time around, my cousins are in their thirties and forties, while I'm seventeen with two older brothers in their early-mid twenties. Judging by this, it is safe to assume that I am obviously the youngest of this generation.

I haven't missed a single reunion since I was born, and, at the time I write this story, I have attended seventeen of these reunions. I also should mention these reunions are held around July 22, which is my grandma's birthday. The date sometimes changes according to when everyone is able to, and if I recall correctly, it has been as early as July 17 or as late as July 29. I should also note that each year we always have at least one new family member. I remember when it was in the single digits with me, my two brothers, and a few cousins. Now, I could probably count up to fifty without exaggerating too much.

I never met my grandma, or any of my grandparents for that matter. I recall my grandma's life and death only as I remember my mom telling me. From what I can understand sometime after the reunion of 1997, my grandma was hit by a car, and she died in the hospital sometime later. She was the last of my grandparents on both my mom and dad's side to go, the rest had died long before I was born. I was only three years old at the time, and I vaguely remember from my ill-developed memory attending the funeral and seeing my grandma within the casket. I also vaguely remember being quite fascinated as my young mind had not understood the concept of death.

For whatever reason you still might be reading this, here's where the story actually starts.

I had been travelling on my life considering my dad worked for United Airlines, so flying wasn't much of a surprise to me even though I was only about eight It was July 2002 if I recall correctly, and my mom and I had just landed in Chicago from Las Vegas, NV, where I did and still live. Customarily, we were driven by my Uncle Ray to the my Auntie Linda and Uncle Joe's house out in Algonquin. It was a pretty large house, and was very cozy. My mom and I shared a room upstairs, which I think was my cousin Lorie's room before she moved out.

As a coincidence, my mom, Auntie Linda, Uncle Joe, and most of my relatives began to explain to me the reunions, and also my Grandma Lily who the reunions became based around after her death. She was a great woman, very intelligent, very kind, and very loving, and flawlessly brought up my mom, my aunts, and my uncles. She was the role model for what every woman should be. On top of this, she was very healthy with no medical ailments even with her growing age. She was in her mid-seventies at the time, and possibly may have lived to a century had it not been for that fateful day. Hearing these consistently sincere stories from my mom, my aunts, and my uncles makes me wish she lived so I could meet her. One thing so captivating about my Grandma was that she was very loving, and she loved all of her children, her children's children, her friends, and everyone around her with a warm heart.

Then came a night that terrified me to the point it still haunts me.

It was about two days before the reunion, and my mom and I were getting ready for bed. We had to share the one bed in the room, which didn't bother me at all since I didn't start sleeping on my own until I was about nine. It was about nine or ten at the time according to the classical, red-text, digital alarm clock that sat on the nightstand.

I woke up in the middle of the night and glanced at the clock, and I remember it being 1:36a.m. Rubbing my eyes and letting it adjust to the darkness, my mom had left the closet open, and I was rather horrified at what I saw. I saw a white figure, resembling a anthropomorphic cloud vaguely shaped like a human. It had to face, and I could make out a head and body, and vaguely shaped limbs. It also had what I could describe as two legs. It was like a fairly solid figure, and it was surrounded by an eerily faded aura. It had no face or any discernable features other than its humanoid shape. It looked like it was about to sprint across the room, as it looked like it was a still-shot of a runner in the middle of a race.

On a comical note, looking back on it now, it looked like the ghost in the "Return the Slab" episode of Courage the Cowardly dog that I'm pretty sure scared us when we were younger. I didn't see this episode until sometime after I saw the entity in the closet, but it's quite reminiscent of what I saw in that closet.

I woke up, like this was some kind of dream, but I was shocked to find out it wasn't. I directed my attention to the closet, to see the same figure I was seeing an unexplained amount of time ago. Only this time, instead of looking like it was about to sprint across the room, it appeared to have its hands behind its back. It was staring at me with its faceless head., and I stared back, not knowing what to do. I was too frozen even to wake up my mom who was in the same bed, so I just stared with no real intention.

As if it crept up on me, it was morning and I recall still sitting up in the bed. I passed out and woke up to my mom getting ready to go to the mall to pass some time. I began crying and my mom asked me what was wrong, and I explained what I saw that night to her. She tried to rationalize it as being a white dress in the closet, but there was absolutely nothing white in that closet, only dark clothes. I searched thoroughly to be sure of that fact. She had no explanation, and she asked me why I didn't wake her up. I didn't know why, and I still don't know why.

My Uncle Joe, Auntie Linda, and my mom all talked to me about it, and they said it was probably grandma visiting, and that I shouldn't be scared. That didn't change the fact that I was scared, and years later I heard that if a spirit is a visiting relative or friend, then you won't feel free when you see them despite the awe and surprise. This observation scares me that much more, since I was scared out of my mind at this entity. I refused to believe it was my grandma.

Up to now I refuse to sleep with closets open, and I'm scared of waking up to see something staring at me. I still wonder what I saw in that closet, and whether or not it was my grandma. When I go back to the reunions, I make absolute sure the closet is closed, and I sleep with the light on in that house.

I don't know what I saw that night, and if it was, in fact, my grandma, I just wish she hadn't scared me so badly.