I've held off on posting this stuff for many reasons, but I feel like it's time now to talk about it.
The night I found out my mom died, I was up in my room, trying to fall asleep, but I would start thinking about Mom and start crying all over again. Finally, I cried out, in grief and pain, "I need you, Mommy!" I haven't called my mom that since I was about six years old, but I felt as helpless and alone as a six year old right then.
I laid down and sobbed, and - I promise this is true - I heard come from the other room (my parents' bedroom) my mom's voice saying, "It's all okay...It's all okay...It's all okay," and I felt a warm hand rub my back.
Ever since then, I've known that Mom's here in the house, and she's made her presence known many times - mostly by opening my bedroom door when I know I closed it tight. In fact, I just looked over at my door right now, and it's cracked...again.