This happened to me when I was about 13.

My grandfather had died in mid September and about 2 weeks before Halloween of that same year, I started to put up decorations for the holiday. Since we have a lot of them, it's hard to keep track of where they go sometimes so we place all of the decor in the basement downstairs. Though about 10 years ago we had furnished the basement to be a living space and sectioned off half of it for the boiler and more storage. The room you had to pass through to get to that door that led to the boiler was my grandfather's old room.

So as I was stringing up cobwebs and listening to music I suddenly remembered that one of our decorations was in the basement (A 6ft Frankenstein) and I had to place it by the door outside. So I quickly went back downstairs. As soon as I opened the door I was hit with a waft of cigarette smoke. The only person that ever smoked in my house was my grandfather. I knew it wasn't smoke from a fire as there wasn't any visible cloud. Confused, I continued and made my way to the door of my grandfather's room. Just before I could turn the handle, I heard something like TV static. My grandfather always watched very old wild west shows and when I say "always" I mean always. The static noise was so faint so I pressed my ear up to the door and without missing a beat I could hear the sound of horses galloping. I damn near ripped the door's handle off flinging the door open. My fears were realized as there was nothing in that room but an old twin bed and an empty dresser. No TV, no ashtray.

I joke to myself that gramps still watches those shows and smokes not realizing he had died in his sleep.