From Janice:

My Grandfather suffered a massive CVA about 10 years ago. I am a nurse, and when I called the nurses station I explained this to the nurse in charge of his care.

I know the policy of not giving information regarding a patients condition over the phone (after all who knows who is on the other end of the phone). Understanding this, I asked her to make a simple statement that only a fellow nurse would understand. Empathetic to my situation, as I was in California and he was in Massachusetts, her response was "his pupils are fixed and dilated." I knew this meant that there was no hope of recovery.

I hung up the phone and informed my supervisor that I needed to go home.

I arrived at home and did a small completion ritual to help ease his soul in its journey. I asked that a guide go with my grandfather so he would not have to travel alone. Within a few hours I received a call, telling me my Grandfather had died, and so had his favorite cat Samwise... at the same, exact time.

Hearing this, I knew that my grandfather had a loving companion to travel into the next plane of existence with him.

The next week I began packing away his belongings (he spent the winter months here in California). When I came across his slippers, sitting there covered in dust, I bust into tears, I could not bear to put them away just yet. I would wait a few days and then put them in the closet.

Three days later when I went to place them in the closet I could not find them under the bedside table. The dusty outline showed where they had been sitting but they were no longer there! I asked my then husband and my daughter if they had moved them. They both denied touching them.

Later that day as I was putting more items away I spotted the slippers sitting on the floor of the closet. The dust on the slippers had not been disturbed, no fingerprints, no smudge marks, no signs of being handled by another human at all. There was no one else in the house to move them except the three of us, and none of us had moved them. Did my Grandfather's spirit use this to say his good-bye to me, knowing that I would understand the silent message of the slippers as his loving farewell?

A true story submitted by Janice Kimball