Dad pays one last visit in a dream

My dad passed away when I was 18 years old. I will never forget that morning as long as I live. I had just graduated high school a few months before and was now employed at a grocery store, in the meatpacking department. I was still living at home and when I’d left that morning everything was fine, but shortly after my workday started I received a phone call from my mom saying I was needed at home right away. At that point they didn’t tell me what was wrong for fear of me being too upset to make it back home.
When I got home my mom told me that dad had passed away that morning shortly after I left. My younger sister found him; he’d apparently had a heart attack while dressing that morning. My dad was in his sixties at the time so it was a tremendous surprise, though devastating all the same.
I took the passing of my dad very hard, so hard in fact that I believe I may have been in denial; I didn’t think I could face the funeral. The night before the funeral I told my mother that I would not be going; she was very disappointed but didn’t push me to go, as I think she understood what I was feeling.
That night I dreamed that everyone was in the front yard, getting ready to go to the funeral, but I was still in the house. My dad walked into my bedroom and told me that I needed to go to the funeral. I told him I just couldn’t face it, but he said that I should go, that everything would be okay.
When I woke up the next morning my dad’s old hat was sitting on the nightstand next to my bed, and to this day I don’t know how it got there. I asked everyone in the house but no one claimed responsibility for placing dad’s hat in my room.
I felt that dad had paid me one last visit to help me get through my grief. Needless to say, I did end up going to the funeral.

By Cindy G from Colorado Springs

The Gypsy

This is a strange story that was told to me by my mother many years ago. When I was a child there was an old cabin that sat next to the river that went through our town. It seemed out of place because all the other buildings on the street were modern.
My mother told me that an old gypsy lived in the cabin and that people in town often went to her to have their fortune told; although my own mother would never go. When I asked her why she said that a few years prior to that point in time, one of her friends had gone to the old woman, and was told that her little girl would die on her birthday.
Naturally, her friend was very paranoid and kept a close eye on the child, who was only like five years old. She wouldn’t even let the little girl go out and play.
Well on the child’s next birthday she was standing by their living room window, looking out when a car went out of control and burst through the window, killing the little girl.

By Anonymous (Name withheld by request)