When I was 11 yrs. old, my step grandfather died of lung cancer while in Texas on a fishing trip. He knew his time was limited and he wanted to go out doing what he loved to do best. So the family piles into two vehicles to make the trip to Southern IL. for his funeral. (My parents conflicting work schedules necessitated two vehicles). After the funeral, My mom, me and my younger brother set out in one of the cars for home. My father and sister would be coming home a couple of days later.
That first night home, I was in my bedroom getting ready for bed when all of a sudden there was the sound of heavy, raspy, breathing coming from right in front of me but no one was there. Freaked out by it, I ran into the living room by my mother who was watching TV. I never said a word, fearful that she would laugh at me or think I was crazy. Next thing I know, my little brother who'd been playing around on an old typewriter in my sisters room, comes running into the room grasping his chest, saying he heard breathing noises! With that I spoke up about my experience and as I expected my mother laughed it off, thinking we were both playing games with her! Needless to say, neither my brother or I slept easily for the next few weeks.
Fast forward to 1978 and my other grandfather was in the hospital dying from lung cancer. My mother and I made the trip to Southern IL. in the middle of the night because he wasn't expected to live much longer. Now, I don't know what hospital rules are like today regarding minors, but back then they generally weren't allowed on the upper patient floors. My mother was determined to sneak me in to see him for the last time and as I entered the room I froze. He was in a coma and would die later that day, but what sent chills down my spine was the heavy, raspy, breathing due to the mucus buildup in his lungs. It was the same sound I had heard after returning from my first grandfathers funeral two years earlier! My brother and I still talk about it to this day!
