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Witness: Fairygothmommy
Location: Evanston, Illinois
Date of Encounter: July 30, 2005

It was about a month and a half after my mother passed away. Life without her had been pretty hard on all of us, and my boyfriend and I had gone out to dinner to talk so I could get out of the house for a while. Choosing a neutral restaurant, we got a table and talked over dinner and a soda. I decided to tell him how I felt about Mom and the situation.

"It's weird," I told him, "I just feel like she's not really gone, as if she was somehow near us."

As I finished my sentence, the air by me became ice cold and out of nowhere, the table began to rattle back and forth violently enough that the people next to us gave us a look. Startled, my boyfriend and I quickly looked out the window at the nearby street to see if a truck or some other large machine had passed that would explain our table shaking, but nothing was on the street. 

The table stopped shaking as quickly as it had started, and the air near our table became much warmer. Since then, it's been like a door was opened for us; at home, my mother's scent will float out of nowhere — despite the fact that she hadn't been home for four months at the time of her death — and only members of the family can smell it, and a figure will walk from my parents' room to the kitchen or bathroom and back. 

In particular, the experiences tend to center around my 3-year-old daughter — my mother's only grandchild. She will often be seen sitting next to an empty chair. When asked what she's doing, the answer is always the same: 

"I'm talking to Grammy."

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