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The original was posted on /r/paranormal by /u/ThrowRA_InsertUsr on 2024-07-27 06:35:32+00:00.


My grandfather died before I was born. He was a heavy smoker when he was young and it caught up to him in his later years. He found out that he had stage three or four lung cancer and died not to long after that. My grandmother never really liked talking about him, she had always tried to convince him to stop smoking but he never listened. I’m not sure that she ever forgave him. She has also passed away due to age, when I was 12. I’m 24 now, and when I go home for the holidays I will usually visit her grave. We were always really close, and I like to catch up with her every once in awhile.

So, here’s why I’m posting in paranormal. About three years ago, I was visiting her grave around Christmas. I’ve never seen anyone visit her grave when I have been there. Honestly, I thought I was the only one who still did. But this time, there was a man there. I wanted to leave him be, to greave or do whatever he was doing, but some voice in my head said I should go up and talk to him. I am a very shy person. I am not good at striking up a conversation with a stranger, but for whatever reason the closer I got, the less I felt my nerves. I went up to the man, and he smiled at me. I smiled back. I introduced myself, and for a second, I could see him hesitate, looking me over. He replied with his name. Marcus. We talked for a little bit, not really about my grandmother but just about life. It was weird, I felt so comfortable around the man, and warm inside. But for whatever reason I kept getting a chill down my back. The topic changed to my grandmother, and how we knew her. When I asked, he got a sad look on his face. I didn’t want to press him about the topic, because I could see it made him uncomfortable. So I told him a lot about her, growing up with her, things like that. The more I talked, the happier he looked. A bittersweet look would best describe it. He took out a cigarette, and went to light it. I looked at him, and for whatever reason blurted out that her husband died from smoking. I didn’t want to push the man away, It was just craved into me that smoking was bad, and I didn’t want my grandmother to be offended (is that even possible?) He looked at me, and didn’t say anything for a long second. Old habits die hard, he said or something similar. He put the cigarette away. It felt kinda awkward, and I felt I said the wrong thing so I looked away, feeling that shyness coming back. I look back over to apologize, and he’s gone. Like, not walking away, gone. There is no way he could have disappeared with the time I was looking away. I chalked it up to not realizing how long I was walking away, and was just distracted. I felt bad for the way things ended, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I say goodbye to my grandmother and leave my family shortly after that to go home. I honestly forgot about the whole thing.

I was at my parents house again for the Fourth of July. For whatever reason, my mom wanted to look at baby pictures of my siblings and I. As we are looking through old photos, it hits me. It’s him. It was the man I saw at the graveyard. I talked to my dead grandfather. My parents asked me what was wrong, because they could see I was starting to freak out, but I didn’t tell them. I eventually told my siblings later, but they didn’t believe me. I don’t believe in ghost. I’m trying to convince myself that what happened was a dream, but I know it wasn’t.