When Ruby’s daughter, Cindy, started chatting about her grandmother’s “friend” named William, Ruby thought it was someone she knew. But when Cindy mentioned that this friend had the same name as Ruby’s father—who had passed away—everything changed.
Growing up, Ruby had a tight-knit family. As an only child, she shared a special bond with her parents. They never missed a single field hockey game or parent-teacher meeting, always cheering her on. Even in college, they visited every few weeks, bringing delicious homemade meals that made her feel so loved.
But after her father passed away, everything turned upside down.
Now, Ruby had her own family, with a loving husband named Dean and their six-year-old daughter, Cindy. Since her dad’s death, Ruby’s mom hadn’t been the same. Once a lively, free-spirited woman full of creativity, she seemed to lose her spark the day they buried Ruby’s father. She became quieter, more reserved, and clung to Cindy as if she needed her to fill a void.
Ruby’s mom often took Cindy on little adventures, and while they usually had a great time, Ruby recently noticed something worrying. When Grandma dropped Cindy off, the little girl would cry and avoid her. This made Ruby anxious, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
One day, while they were baking cupcakes together, Ruby decided to gently ask Cindy about it. “Sweetie, why do you cry when Grandma brings you home? Did something happen?” she inquired, mixing the batter.
Cindy hesitated before replying, “It’s because of Grandma’s friend. He’s always around.”
“What friend?” Ruby asked, surprised. “Grandma doesn’t usually have anyone with her except you.”
Cindy smiled slightly, remembering a fun moment. “But Grandma always asks me to say hello to William before we eat. Who is William, Mommy?”
That name struck Ruby like a lightning bolt. William was her father’s name.
Staying calm, Ruby replied, “Oh, honey, that’s okay. Let’s finish these cupcakes.” But inside, her heart raced with concern.
The next day, after leaving Cindy and Dean to enjoy a movie marathon, Ruby knew it was time to talk to her mom. They needed to clear the air.
When Ruby brought up Cindy’s mention of William, her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Ruby,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to scare Cindy.”
“Scare her? What’s going on, Mom?” Ruby pressed, her worry deepening.
Her mother took Ruby’s hand, her voice trembling. “I still feel your father’s presence. Talking about him started as a way to cope with my loneliness. I guess I talk about him sometimes, even in front of Cindy. I didn’t realize it would confuse or frighten her.”
Ruby’s heart ached for her mother. She had struggled with her father’s death too, but hadn’t realized how deeply it affected her mom.
“I understand that you miss him,” Ruby said gently, “but Cindy doesn’t. She’s just a child, and she doesn’t know how to make sense of this.”
They spent hours reminiscing about Ruby’s dad, sharing stories over coffee and donuts. Eventually, Ruby encouraged her mom to talk to Cindy and explain things from her perspective.
Mom agreed, understanding that while her conversations with Dad were comforting to her, they weren’t something Cindy was ready to grasp.
In the following weeks, Ruby’s mother opened up to Cindy about her feelings, helping her granddaughter understand that Grandpa William wasn’t a ghost or imaginary friend—just a cherished memory.
Mom even began seeing a therapist to help process her grief, which made a huge difference. Her mood lifted, and she started painting again, a hobby she and Cindy now loved to do together.
Cindy quickly bounced back, once again enjoying her time with Grandma. As a family, they found peace and healing. Though Ruby’s mom still talked to her father, she now did it privately. Together, they were all moving forward, stronger than ever.
