We were just sitting around talking about the house I lived in when I was a kid, and my dad was telling us about some things that happened to him. Mostly to my wife, since I’ve heard all these stories before.
Except for this one.
My dad was named after his dad only he had a different middle name. Never mind that, everyone called him Junior. Except for his mom, who affectionately called him Junie.
Dad said that about a month after his mother died, while we were living in that house, he got a phone call. On the other end was his mom who he said sounded very far away. She said “Junie” twice and the line went dead.