It was 9:30pm on July 29th. Grant promised to be home by 9:30. I looked at my phone to check the time as I snuggled in my bed with my 8 year old. He played Zelda and I read my book while we waited for dad to come home.

He’ll be home any minute I silently stated. He’s nearly always on time. At that moment I thought, I want Grant to walk in right now to see us like this. He’ll admire how cute we are, cuddling together as we’re both happily doing our own thing. He’ll say, “Awwwwww, you two are so cute.” “Yeah,” I’d respond, “aren't’ we?”

I distinctly remember those words going through my head. As I internally expressed those words, ‘I want Grant to see us.’ I felt an immediate rush of energy into the room. It was distinct and caught my attention immediately. It was Grant. I had called him. He had heard it, and in his new form, responded immediately to my call.

I looked up into the corner of the room where he was, that’s where I could sense him. He stood right by the hanging swing chair past the foot of the bed. What I saw was like a feeling. I could see with my heart; just after I thought the words, ‘I want Grant to see us right now.’ He was there to see us, just as I had asked. That’s when I felt that rush.

I looked up to the spot where my swing hung. Just beside it was where I felt him land. The sense I had as I looked in that area was ‘Oh he is here. He is watching us right now.’ These were my exact thoughts. He’d been dead for 14 minutes. I didn’t know that yet. It would be days before I knew the timing of these events.

At the foot of my bed on the side, is this hanging swing I adore. I loved to sit in that chair and kick my feet off the end of the bed and just rock. The rhythmic motion soothed me. I’d cozy up in that swing with a blanket, some tea and a good book in the middle of the afternoon as I listened to the sounds of my kids playing.

I’d retreat there. Often, I would be found in the swing looking toward my bed. Tonight I sat in my bed looking at the swing. This was a notably different view to be looking at my swing and not be in it. As I sat in the bed instead of the swing, I had stated my hearts’ desire. I called him home.

In that moment, he heard the call, and responded immediately without the restrictions of a mortal physical body. He heard me. He came. He looked at us and he thought, ‘Awww you two are so cute.’ I looked up and validated that truth with my heart, ‘Aren’t we?’

These would have been the words if there were words spoken by mouth. It happened as a feeling, he felt it. The communication was new and different, we both felt that. Yet it also seemed like us as usual. That kind of comfort that comes with daily interaction.

Just behind my swing, where he stood, I had a sign that said, “This is My Happy Place.” The sign had lavender flowers following the words. I love lavender. When I saw the sign in the store I knew just the place for it, right next to my swing. It belonged where I was enveloped in the coziness of my swing as it rocked back and forth. Here I felt the joy of life and the peace of happy.

I bought the happy place sign and made it just that. I decorated the whole room around that one color, lavender. It was girly, but not too much. Grant had previously commented, “It’s a bit feminine, but it’s nice.” I laughed when he said it. I replied, “In a house full of boys, it’s time we have a little more feminine around here, so here it is.” He smiled and responded, “Yeah, ok,” in his way of approving without seeming like he liked it too much.

It was sweet and significant that he came and stood right in my happy place, where I found the most joy in that house. My next thought was, ‘That was an odd, why would I think Grant is here? He’s not home yet.’

Neither of us were close to aware of this new form of communication that had just passed between us. We both felt it, but couldn’t comprehend the vast difference that had now been created by his new state, the one I didn’t know he was in, not yet.

He felt home, because he’d come home, just like he always did before. I felt him, his presence, just as I always did before. Home was perhaps his first stop. Where else would he go? It’s this moment I knew something was different. I didn’t know something was wrong yet. That would come.

This was the gift of a sweet moment of truth. This was before the reality of my new circumstance hit my world and changed it forever. It already existed, I just didn’t know it yet. This tender exchange would help bring me to accept the truth of this new reality and carry me through it. He was with me. And as he looked at me, I could feel him saying, I’m here for what’s coming, and I’m sorry it’s coming.