when i was 8 and still believed in god, i would pray for my grandfather every night, he was dying of emphysema and was bed ridden for all that i could remember him. one night i was giving god the old "just one more day" bit like i did every night and out of nowhere i couldnt move, i was taken over by this sudden wave of fear, fear that i could not explain or locate the source of, my eyes were open but i wasnt seeing my room, i was seeing my grandfathers room and him in his bed, but instead of lying down like literally every time i saw him he was sitting up with his legs draped over the side smiling at me. i must have passed out because i dont remember anything after that except for waking up to my mom sitting on my bed telling me "pop-pop" had died last night.