In the last weeks of his life, My dad swore that shadowy figures dressed in “old-fashioned” garb were frequently coming into his house. He said they were not frightening, but not helpful either. When I asked what he thought they were he’d just shrug and say “beats the sh*t outta me.”
When my mom died, she appeared at the foot of my sister’s bed. My sister told me that she was smiling and at peace.