The fear that she had cancer was keeping me awake at night. Sometimes I had nightmares, sometimes I just tossed and turned, and occasionally I stared into nothingness. I’ve been trying to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for the future losses of all of my grandparents, but for some reason, I deluded myself into thinking that Nana would either never go or she would be the last. Now, she may leave me first, and my heart was aching.
Tonight was another one of those nights in which I was restless, trying to find that comfortable spot on the bed, fitfully trying to sleep. Suddenly, it felt like she was there, like she was in my room. I could sense her presence so strongly. I didn’t move. I could feel her soft, cool hand press against my forehead, the way she gently rests it there when I’m on the couch at her house and she thinks I’m asleep. I cried. I’ve heard stories like this: people sensing the presence of a loved one just after that person has died.
But she’s alive, and there is no cancer.