when I was younger I would always stroll through the woods behind my house and there was a tiny cabin about a mile into the woods and I would always stop to chat with this old guy named Robert who did woodwork as a hobby and he told me that he didn't live in the cabin it was just his getaway spot. I would hang out with him pretty much every summer from the age of 9-14. Then one day I walk up there and I see a middle aged lady and I figured it was his daughter who he always talked about so I went up to her and asked her where robert was? and she asked me how I knew him and I told her that he was my friend and he would give me books and stuff when we hung out outside the cabin and she turned so pale. She told me I was crazy and I shouldn't play jokes on people like that....she was angry but I didn't understand why. Then I just left and I googled his name two years later and it came up that he died in 2002 which really weirded me out because I freaking hung out with him that year and even the year after and I know the obituary was his because his kids were all listed in the obit, including his daughter that I met in the woods. I was freaked the fuck out. Still am.