This is actually pretty bittersweet (the song part is creepy af though). Similar thing happened to my brother-in-law where he recounted to me a week or so after his grandfather died (where my wife and BIL were very close with) that the night he passed he felt a brush of wind in his room, a voice and overall presence…

I often wonder what would’ve happened if I had written this story when I was 8. I wonder if any of the facts would’ve changed, or if more small details now lost would’ve been included. I wonder how fresh the fear would be in every word. It has been so long that the anxiety I’d experience just thinking of it has grown…