I lost my great-grandfather last October, yet it feels like years have passed since we spoke. I know he is always around in spirit sending his love. Whenever I find change on the ground I smile my cheesiest smile because I believe it’s from him. His way of communicating things like, “It’s okay, baby, smile,” or, “You can cry, I’m here,” and sometimes, "My baby can do anything.” I find a coin and I know I’m no longer alone. I feel safe and happy with just a simple penny on the ground. Not much value to many, but to me it means the world.

I once thought I lost one of my special pennies I carried in my backpack with me and literally felt like the world had ended and I couldn’t breathe. I found it later and my sanity was restored, but I know to others it seemed like an over dramatic reaction. I was actually pretty calm in that freak out. As you can tell by now, I love my granddaddy very much and miss him like no words could ever be used to describe it.

So when he visits me while I’m sleeping, I am in only what I can describe as complete and utter bliss. He is happy, healthy and overjoyed to see his baby again. The feeling is unbearably mutual. Sometimes we just go through memory lane from picking me up in the mornings to driving me to school to birthdays and holidays, and if I’m lucky, small details like the time I picked these random chips from my corner store I call “po’boys.”

I doubt that’s actually the name, but as always, it started with him giving me some money to buy him two Tylenols and the rest was for me. The order was so simple that they knew it by heart. I'd get the Tylenol, a blue huggie, some cheese sunflower seeds, zebra cakes, star crunch and a variety bag of chips. I decided by my mood that day. So I picked a blue bag of chips with weird designs on them called “cheez doodles.“ We shared that bag and so he had me go back to get two more bags, one for each of us. I was in elementary school when this happened but it was as clear as if it happened yesterday.

There was also the time when I didn’t have school so early in the morning. I'd get picked up with milk in one hand and cereal in the other. He would have his hot coffee in his Styrofoam cup and I'd fall asleep until we got to their house. I put my milk and cereal on the table and went to take granddad's place in the bed with grandma. When I woke up it was "Murder She Wrote" playing and my granddaddy in the chair by the window. My grandma was out of bed, so I knew breakfast was almost ready. I would carry up my granddad's food and come back for mine.

We would watch the show together until the lottery came on. We never missed the lottery, no matter what. Upstairs or down, it was on like that when the clock struck, well, lottery time. After the lottery I would go downstairs and watch "The Young and the Restless" and "The Bold and the Beautiful."

Maybe this is why I feel I have an old soul. When the soaps come on, I’m sorry, but you have to reconnect or try again because that victor will have me all messed up. Another memory I wish I could have again.

This time was different, see, granddaddy never made it to my college, never got to see my dorm, so when I was walking through my campus and seemed to be having a bad day, to look up and see him smiling with arms wide open was unexpected, yet just what I needed.

After the hug we drove to the cemetery to visit his plate in the ground. It was less scary knowing he was with me and better in heaven. We sat there and talked about life and the family. He could tell I was hurting, so we left and decided he was going to teach me how to drive. He never had the chance to do that either, so it was great. We drove around until he had to go and promised to be back real soon.

I woke up happy. I don’t know if it was a dream or a vision, but only one thing was certain: I am never alone. I will have my license before going back to Stevenson and I will visit him and show him what it meant to me. I can feel less sad when I miss him knowing he is okay and misses us just as much as we do him. Life and death are tricky things to figure out, but when I see him again up there, I know he will be proud of who his baby turned out to be.

This article is dedicated to my great- grandfather, Hardy Lassiter Sr.

Forever in our hearts.