At four I lived with my family in my Grandmother's home. It was an old classic 2 story house with built in bookcases flanking the stone fireplace and wonderful walnut and oak wood trim through out. There was only one small bathroom upstairs. To get there a person had to walk past my bedroom door and the floor made a delightful creaking sound in the hallway. One time the floor creaked in the middle of the night and I opened my eyes to see my Grandfather heading to the bathroom. Now this is unusual because my Grandfather died 6 months before I was born, and yet with all the stories I had been told of him and photos around, I was quite certain this was Grandpa Joe. Following shortly after him in the hallway was my Grandmother. I heard them talking and went to the hallway to take a peak at my deceased relation. I was so excited I bolted into my Mother and Father's room to announce the visitations in the upstairs hallway. The next morning I asked if Mom had gone to see her father in the hallway. She stated she didn't know what the Sam-Hill I was talking about and I must have dreamed the whole incident. Later when I went into the bathroom I found an extinguished cigar in an ashtray on the basin stand. Grandpa was the only one who smoked cigars.
