My grandmother appeared to me three days after her death

My grandmother was the holiest person I ever knew. She attended daily Mass in Montreal for sixty years. When she died at age 94, I was devastated but at peace, knowing she was with God. Three days after her funeral, I was sitting alone in my study, reading. The room suddenly filled with the scent of her perfume, a particular lavender blend she had worn my entire life. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Not imagined. A physical pressure, warm and gentle. I turned around and she was there. Not as she had been in her final days, frail and diminished, but as I remembered her from my childhood: strong, radiant, smiling. She said three words: "Do not worry." Then she was gone. I am a deacon. I have studied theology. I know the Church teaches that the dead can appear to the living with God's permission. But knowing it theologically and experiencing it in your study at 10 PM on a Tuesday are very different things. I have never told this story publicly before. But I feel it is time. She would want me to share it, because someone reading this needs to hear those three words: do not worry.