Madge was my husband's grandmother. I never had the pleasure to meet her, but I hear she was a fine lady, and I think that her and I would have much to talk about. We share the same favorite flower (hydrangeas), she loved to cook, she could sew and knit.
Last spring, while Frank was working late, I tucked the kids into bed, and was sewing away when I got the strangest feeling that I was not alone. I was scared enough to call Frank and tell him I needed him to come home, and he did. I felt like someone was over my shoulder. This happened a few other times after as well. I would be alone sewing, late at night, and the feeling would come back. Too strong to shake. Now I realize, I am not alone when I sew. There is somewhere there with me. I think that it is Madge. Perhaps she is giving me tips, or maybe she is sitting with a cup of tea, just enjoying. it doesn't matter of course, I am just glad she is there.