When I saw the name pop up on my phone, my heart nearly stopped.

It was my grandmother.

She had been gone for almost six years. I remember because I was the one holding her hand in the hospital, whispering that it was okay to let go.

But now, here she was—her name, her old profile picture, staring back at me on a friend request notification.

At first, I thought it had to be some mistake. Maybe someone hacked her old account. Maybe Facebook was just glitching. But when I clicked on the profile, everything was the same as she had left it—her last post from 2018, the photos of her garden, even the comments we left after she passed. Nothing new.

Then I got a message.

“Hello, dear.”

My whole body went cold.

I stared at the screen, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone. It was impossible. Completely impossible.

I took a deep breath and typed back, “Who is this?”

Three dots appeared. Someone was typing.

Then the reply came:

“I’ve missed you.”

I nearly threw my phone across the room.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

But before I could make sense of it, another message popped up.

“I know you’ve been struggling, honey. I’ve been watching over you.”

My mind was racing. My grandmother had passed away six years ago. She was gone. How could this be happening? There was no logical explanation for it. And yet, there it was—her profile, her messages, words only she would say.

I took a few shaky steps back, sitting down on the couch and trying to steady my breath. My grandmother had always been a calming presence in my life. She’d raised me when my parents were too busy to care, and we’d been incredibly close. Losing her had been one of the hardest moments of my life.

“I miss you too,” I typed back, my fingers moving slowly over the keyboard. “But I don’t understand. What is this?”

The response came almost immediately:

“You always wondered if I was still with you, didn’t you? I’m right here.”

I stared at the screen, frozen. There was no way this was real. There was no logical way this could be happening. I had to be dreaming. I tried to convince myself it was just some glitch, some cruel joke, but the messages kept coming, each one more personal than the last.

“I know you haven’t been taking care of yourself. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

That hit a little too close to home. I hadn’t been feeling like myself lately. Work was overwhelming, I had stopped exercising, and I’d been neglecting my health. I’d been so focused on getting through each day that I had stopped taking care of me.

“Grandma?” I typed, hesitating for a moment. “Is it really you?”

I didn’t expect a response. I thought maybe I had crossed a line, maybe I was just being ridiculous. But the message that came next made my heart race:

“Yes, dear. I’m watching over you. You’ve always been my brave girl. But now, you need to remember how to care for yourself again.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the words. I hadn’t even realized how much I missed hearing her voice, how much I longed for her guidance. It was like a weight had been lifted from my chest, and for a moment, I felt a little lighter.

But then, another message came through. And this time, it wasn’t comforting.

“You’re not alone, but you need to make changes. It’s time to stop ignoring the signs.”

I didn’t know what she meant, but her words sent a chill through me. My grandmother had always been a wise woman. She’d seen the world with a clarity that most people couldn’t understand. She’d taught me to trust my instincts and listen to my heart. But right now, I was unsure of what the message meant.

I typed back: “What signs, Grandma? What do I need to do?”

The three dots appeared again. I held my breath, waiting.

“Pay attention to the people around you, honey. They are trying to tell you something.”

The message sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t know who she meant. I hadn’t been spending much time with anyone lately. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this message wasn’t just about my health—it was about something more.

The messages kept coming, each one feeling like a push to change, to wake up from the numb routine I had been living in. My grandmother had always been the person to ground me, to help me see the truth. And now, it felt like she was reaching across time and space to tell me something important.

As I stared at the screen, I knew I had to listen.

The next day, I woke up with a sense of urgency. I needed to do something. I had to stop living in a cycle of exhaustion and stress. I needed to reconnect with myself, with the people around me, and most importantly, I needed to take better care of myself.

I called my sister, someone I hadn’t spoken to much in the past few months, and we talked about things we hadn’t discussed in a long time. She mentioned how she had been feeling the same—burned out, disconnected from everything that once brought her joy. It felt like the universe was giving me another sign, that this was bigger than just my grandmother’s messages. It was a wake-up call for both of us.

That night, I went for a long walk in the park. As I was walking, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching over me. The messages from my grandmother, the things she had said—everything was beginning to make sense.

When I got home, I sat down and checked my phone again. I couldn’t wait to share my realization with her, to tell her how much I was ready to make a change. But when I opened her profile, something strange happened.

Her profile picture was gone.

The messages had stopped.

I scrolled through her old posts, but there was nothing new. It was like the account had been abandoned. There was no more evidence of the conversations we had shared, as if the entire thing had been wiped clean.

I felt a strange sense of loss. It was as though my grandmother had left me a message—one final lesson—before disappearing again.

But that’s when I realized something. The messages weren’t just from her. They were from within me. She had always been there, guiding me, teaching me. And now, she had given me the strength to see that it was time to take charge of my life again.

I started putting in the effort. I stopped ignoring the signs of burnout, the way I had been pushing myself for months. I reconnected with my health, with my family, and with the things I loved. I listened to the people around me.

In the weeks that followed, I felt stronger, more grounded. My relationships improved, and my energy returned. It was as though I had rediscovered something within myself that I had been missing for a long time.

I never received another message from my grandmother, but I knew she was with me in a different way now. The lessons she had imparted—the love, the wisdom, and the encouragement—were all things I carried with me, every single day.

If you’ve been feeling lost or disconnected, take a moment to listen to the signs around you. Sometimes, the answers are not as far away as they seem.

If this story resonated with you, share it. Someone out there might need the reminder to take care of themselves and reconnect with what matters.