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The original was posted on /r/ghoststories by /u/Stumbleine11 on 2025-07-01 09:09:19+00:00.

I was adopted at birth by my wonderful father. My mom was an addict and left when I was 10. My dad raised my brother and me. He did the best he could with what he had. Sure, sometimes his best wasn’t good enough, but that’s all humans, and I digress.

I was not told until I was 17 (mind you, by somebody I wish hadn’t told me. I wish it had been a trusted family member), that my dad wasn’t my biological father. He ended up being my first cousin. We met while he was dating one of my friends. We weren’t and still aren’t close. I tried to laugh it off, but he said he had proof. I said, “I don’t even know you, and I couldn’t care less”, and left it at that for almost a month. I got to thinking though, it made sense. I didn’t look like my dad. My mom had made a comment when I was 12ish that I looked so much like my father, but the way she said it…it was like she wasn’t talking about my dad. There were other things too. I won’t go into them as my dad has passed, and I don’t want to talk ill of the dead. Or my dad. But I put all these things together, and contacted my cousin. I asked for proof. He invited me to his house to meet his mom (my aunt by marriage), and she sat me down and (more gently, may I add) explained to me the situation, and showed me some pictures. We will get into that in a moment.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had dreams where the outcome happens. Still to this day. One was as stupid as I lost some eyeliner, had a dream it was beside my bed on the floor, checked the next morning, and it was there. One was as terrifying and accurate as dreaming the death of a friend that came true.

When I was 12, I had reoccurring dreams for months of walking up a dirt trail, surrounded by beautiful sunflowers. It always started that way. Eventually, I would walk up to a double wide trailer with wind chimes out front. In every dream, I would be met by a beautiful woman. Long, dark wavy hair. Always smiling. Always happy to see me. She would make me sweet tea or lemonade, and we would sit on the porch in the sun, and just talk. Sometimes we would sing. I always felt so at home with her. Like I knew her but couldn’t figure out where I’d seen or met her. We would laugh and tell stories. She always looked at me with so much love in her eyes. I still remember and sing and play a song that we sung together (it’s called sunflowers). I remember thinking to myself, upon waking every time, who is this beautiful woman? But with time, the dreams went away, and I forgot them altogether.

The day I went to get answers, my aunt pulled out a box of old pictures. My biological father was one of the first ones I saw. I look just like him. I remember being heartbroken. Cause this made it real. I remember thinking, why wouldn’t my dad tell me this? But, that’s a long story for another place and time.

Flipping through the pictures, I suddenly went pale, and dropped the whole pile. It all came back to me in one image. My aunt asked, “what’s wrong?” Shaking, I showed her a picture and asked, “who is this woman to me?” She said, “oh, that’s your biological grandmother. She died in 1997”. I tried to compose myself, but she already knew. She said, “tell me, have you seen her before?” That was the woman in my dreams. I was 12 when she passed away. All I could do was stare open mouthed at her. Her beautiful smile. Her big green eyes (so much like mine). Her long, dark wavy hair. I couldn’t speak. I just stared. My aunt then said, “she came to you, didn’t she?” I bursted into tears, and nodded. I told her about the dreams. She told me my grandma was a highly intuitive and psychic person. She said she probably came to say goodbye, and hello, as we had never met. She said it was more than likely that I had the same gifts, as most of the women on that side of the family did. She then kind of smiled and asked, “do you know what her favorite flowers were?”

You guessed it. Sunflowers.

I’ve since met my biological father, and have built a relationship with him. When I told him about all of this, he was not surprised in the least.

Tl,dr: I met my dead grandma in my dreams.