At four I lived with my family in my Grandmother's home.  It was an old classic 2 story house with built in bookcases flanking the stone fireplace and wonderful walnut and oak wood trim through out.  There was only one small bathroom upstairs.  To get there a person had to walk past my bedroom door and the floor made a delightful creaking sound in the hallway.  One time the floor creaked in the middle of the night and I opened my eyes to see my Grandfather heading to the bathroom.  Now this is unusual because my Grandfather died 6 months before I was born, and yet with all the stories I had been told of him and photos around, I was quite certain this was Grandpa Joe.  Following shortly after him in the hallway was my Grandmother.  I heard them talking and went to the hallway to take a peak at my deceased relation.   I was so excited I bolted into my Mother and Father's room to announce the visitations in the upstairs hallway.  The next morning I asked if Mom had gone to see her father in the hallway.  She stated she didn't know what the Sam-Hill I was talking about and I must have dreamed the whole incident.  Later when I went into the bathroom I found an extinguished cigar in an ashtray on the basin stand.  Grandpa was the only one who smoked cigars.