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Grandmother"s ghost"s words of comfort

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It was a very cold October morning back in 2003. I had gone to Bolton Abbey, North Yorkshire to clear my head. Up until now I'd had a horrible few years fighting my daughter's father in court for custody. It was getting very hurtful and I needed some time to process recent events.

As I lived nearby, I thought I would go and take a nice long walk. As with every other trip there, I parked my car in the car park that was reserved for church services.

My uncle had been the estate manager of Bolton Abbey for the Duke of Devonshire for many years and as a personal favour to my family, both my grandparents, Hubert and Ivy Sheard, are both buried at Bolton Abbey.

I walked around the side of the abbey and stood looking at the mist rising over the river. A feeling that I was not alone came over me. Thinking it was just my imagination, I ignored it.

On my way back from my walk, I came back across the bridge and in the distance I could see an elderly couple tending to a grave. A child's grave perhaps? I remember thinking they must be devoted to be coming out in this very cold weather.

The gate banged shut behind me as I re-entered the graveyard on my way back to the car and I decided I should pay my respects to my grandparents. As I knelt in front of their headstone, I became aware of the hazy sun being obscured by something. I turned to look, expecting to see a large cloud... but instead, next to me on one of the benches, as clear as the nose on my face, sat my grandmother with my grandfather standing behind her!

I often thought if I saw a ghost I would be terrified, but I felt strangely calm and peaceful. After only roughly ten seconds my grandmother, who had passed away in 1997, said in her distinctive voice, "Don't worry, dear. We will all be together again soon." And with that they just merged with the mist and slowly disappeared.

All the way home I felt comforted by her words. Maybe they knew the outcome of the custody battle? Maybe they knew how much I needed some support. I didn't have to wait long. On 24 January, 2004, my father passed away on the last day of his holiday in Hawaii aged 63. He now lies near his parents under the magnificent ruined arch at Bolton Abbey.

So that's what she meant: We will all be together again.

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