Every Night, My Late Grandpa Spoke to Me in a Dream: ‘Check the Red Box In My Basement!’ – One Day, I Finally Did

When my grandpa passed away, I thought the hardest part would be moving on. I never expected him to start visiting me in my dreams with the same strange message every night. I didn’t want to believe it meant anything — until the day I finally gave in and went to the basement.

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt truly stuck — like you’re running in place while the world around you keeps moving. That’s my life in a nutshell. I’m 22, and I work as a cashier at a run-down grocery store. It’s the kind of job where you smile and nod while people barely make eye contact, praying your register doesn’t freeze up again.

A young male cashier | Source: Midjourney

A young male cashier | Source: Midjourney

The pay is terrible, and by the time I cover rent and utilities for my tiny apartment, there’s barely enough left for groceries.

Life wasn’t always like this, though. I grew up in my grandpa’s house — a cozy place with creaky floors and walls full of old family photos. He raised me and my older brother, Tyler, after our parents died in a car accident.

Grandpa did his best to give us a good life and taught me everything I know about working hard and being decent.

But Tyler? He couldn’t have been more different. Immediately we turned 18, we found out our parents had left us a small inheritance. It wasn’t a fortune, but it could’ve made life a little easier.

Close up of two young adult men | Source: Midjourney

Close up of two young adult men | Source: Midjourney

Tyler didn’t care about sharing. He drained the account, borrowed money from Grandpa, and vanished without a word.

I haven’t seen him since.

Grandpa and I didn’t talk about Tyler much after that. It hurt too much. We focused on getting by, fixing things around the house, and spending weekends fishing at the lake. Those were the good days.

Grandpa and grandson fishing | Source: Midjourney

Grandpa and grandson fishing | Source: Midjourney

After Grandpa passed, I thought the hardest part was over. I thought the silence in the house, the empty chair at the table, and the quiet hum of memories would be the worst. But I was wrong.

It had happened all so fast. Just two weeks ago, I walked into the house after my shift, groceries in hand, and found him on the floor. His favorite sweater was soaked in spilled tea, and the crossword puzzle he’d been working on was half-finished on the coffee table.

I remember dropping the bags, screaming his name, and shaking him like he could wake up if I just tried hard enough.

A heart attack, the doctors said. Quick and unexpected. Nothing anyone could’ve done.

Doctor delivering bad news to a patient about losing a loved one | Source: Midjourney

Doctor delivering bad news to a patient about losing a loved one | Source: Midjourney

At the funeral, I kept waiting for Tyler to show up. Not because I wanted him there but because it felt wrong for him not to be. But, as always, my brother didn’t care enough to show his face. Just me, a scattering of neighbors, and a casket I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to.

That’s when the dreams started.

It wasn’t weird at first. Of course, I’d dream about Grandpa — he was the only family I had left. In the dreams, we were back at the lake, sitting on that old wooden dock with our fishing rods, just like we used to.

Grandpa was the same as ever: his baseball cap tilted back, his sleeves rolled up, smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

A young man sleeping | Source: Midjourney

A young man sleeping | Source: Midjourney

“Caught anything yet?” I asked him in one dream, watching my line float lazily in the water.

“Nah,” he said, grinning. “You’re scaring the fish with all that talking.”

I laughed, and for a moment, everything felt normal. But then, his face grew serious, and he leaned in close.

“Listen to me, kiddo,” he said. “Check the red box in my basement.”

The first time it happened, I woke up and shrugged it off. Grief does strange things to people. But the dreams didn’t stop. Every night, the same scene. The same words.

A young man seated in his bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A young man seated in his bed at night | Source: Midjourney

“Check the red box in my basement.”

After a week, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fine, Grandpa,” I muttered one morning, standing at the top of the basement stairs. “Let’s see what all this is about.”

The air down there was heavy, like the weight of a thousand memories. And then I saw it — a splash of red peeking out from beneath a pile of old newspapers.

My heart started pounding. Could this really mean something?

The red box was exactly where Grandpa said it would be, sitting beneath a dusty stack of newspapers. For a second, I just stared at it, unsure if I was more relieved or freaked out.

Young man staring at a large red box in the basement | Source: Midjourney

Young man staring at a large red box in the basement | Source: Midjourney

“Well, Grandpa,” I muttered, wiping my palms on my jeans, “let’s see what was so important.”

The lid creaked as I opened it, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Inside was nothing but fishing gear — spools of line, a box of rusty hooks, and a set of lures. There was even the old reel Grandpa used to call his “lucky charm,” though I don’t think it ever actually caught anything.

I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. “Is this what all the fuss was about?” I chuckled. “You really got me worked up for a tackle box?”

Shaking my head, I set the reel back inside and closed the lid. Maybe the dreams were just my brain’s way of clinging to him. Maybe it was all nonsense.

Young man opening a large old red box in the basement | Source: Midjourney

Young man opening a large old red box in the basement | Source: Midjourney

As I turned to leave, my foot clipped the edge of a nearby box.

“Crap!” I hissed as the whole stack wobbled dangerously before collapsing in a chaotic crash. Dust filled the air, and I coughed, waving it away. “Seriously? Perfect.”

But as I bent down to start picking up the mess, something caught my eye — a metal door embedded in the wall behind where the boxes had been.

A safe.

An old safe with a large circular dial | Source: Midjourney

An old safe with a large circular dial | Source: Midjourney

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

It looked ancient, the kind with a big circular dial and no obvious keyhole. I crouched down, running my fingers over the cold metal.

“What’s the combination?” I muttered to myself, my mind racing.

I tried a few combinations, starting with Grandpa’s birthday. Nothing. Then I tried Tyler’s, just to see. Still nothing.

“Come on,” I muttered, wiping sweat from my forehead. Then, almost on instinct, I tried my own birthday.

Click.

Young man opening an ancient safe | Source: Midjourney

Young man opening an ancient safe | Source: Midjourney

The sound echoed in the quiet basement, and I froze. Slowly, I pulled the door open, revealing neat stacks of cash — so much that I could hardly believe my eyes. Fifty thousand dollars, at least.

My hands shook as I reached in and pulled out a note tucked beneath one of the stacks. It was Grandpa’s handwriting, shaky but familiar.

“For my boy — everything I couldn’t give you in life. Use it to build something good, and don’t let the world beat you down. Love, Grandpa.”

Tears blurred my vision as I sat back, clutching the note. He’d left it for me. After everything, he’d left me the inheritance he must’ve saved bit by bit over the years.

Thousands of US dollar notes inside an ancient safe | Source: Midjourney

Thousands of US dollar notes inside an ancient safe | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks, Grandpa,” I whispered. My voice cracked, but for the first time in weeks, I felt something close to hope.

The money changed everything.

I didn’t blow it on luxury or take the easy way out. Grandpa’s note kept playing in my mind: “Build something good.” And so, I did.

Six months later, the doors to Peter’s Coffee opened, a cozy little shop tucked on the corner of Main Street.

The walls were lined with fishing memorabilia — a framed picture of Grandpa and me at the lake, his lucky reel mounted above the counter, and even the old red box, now polished and displayed by the register.

A cozy, inviting coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

A cozy, inviting coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

People loved it. Maybe it was the smell of fresh coffee or the warm, homey vibe. Maybe it was because it was personal. I made sure to tell every customer about the man behind the name, the one who gave me everything when he had so little.

I thought about Tyler, too. I tried calling him, left messages on the only number I had, and even sent an email. But, just like before, there was no answer. Part of me wanted to be angry, but another part just hoped he was okay.

Young man smiling in his cozy coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

Young man smiling in his cozy coffee shop | Source: Midjourney

One evening, as the shop closed for the night, I lingered behind the counter, wiping down tables. The fishing reel above the door caught the light, and I smiled.

“See, Grandpa?” I said softly, looking around the shop. “I did it.”

I swear I felt a warm breeze sweep through the room, even though the doors were shut.

And in my mind, I heard his voice, as clear as ever:

“You did good, kiddo. You did real good.”

A young man standing in his cozy coffee shop at night | Source: Midjourney

A young man standing in his cozy coffee shop at night | Source: Midjourney

Curious about another family mystery? You’ll love this next one: At My Grandfather’s Funeral, a Stranger Handed Me a Note – When I Read It, I Laughed Because Grandpa Had Tricked Us. What did he leave behind?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Let’s find out who is lefthanded!

Have you ever wondered how to spot a left-handed person in a group of people just by observing their actions? It may seem easy at first, but when it comes to analyzing small details, many people struggle to find the correct answer.

In this intriguing puzzle, we have a group of individuals engaged in different activities—a chef, a computer user, a cleaner, a waitress, a photographer, and even a squirrel! The challenge is simple: Can you identify the left-handed person just by looking at their actions?

Take a close look at the image and test your observation skills. Let’s break it down step by step and see if you can get the correct answer!

Common Mistakes People Make in This Puzzle

At first glance, many people jump to conclusions too quickly, assuming that the hand holding an object determines whether a person is left-handed or right-handed. However, hand dominance is more complex than that! Here are some common errors people make when solving this puzzle:

  1. Assuming that the hand currently in use is the dominant hand – Some people use both hands for different tasks, so just because someone holds an object in one hand doesn’t mean it’s their dominant hand.
  2. Ignoring how objects are being held – A left-handed person might hold a tray in their right hand while using their left hand for more precise actions, such as serving.
  3. Focusing only on a single task – Some people might appear to use their right hand more often, but their overall posture and habits might indicate left-handedness.
  4. Forgetting that some tasks require both hands – Writing or using a mouse might be a clear indicator of hand dominance, but tasks like sweeping or using a camera require both hands, making it trickier to determine.

With these common mistakes in mind, let’s analyze each character in the image and find the true left-hander!

Video : Puzzles: Test Your Logical Reasoning: Guess who is Left Handed?

Breaking Down Each Character’s Actions

Now, let’s carefully examine each person in the image and determine which hand they seem to prefer.

The Chef (Chopping Vegetables)
He holds the knife in his right hand while using his left to steady the vegetables. Most right-handed chefs use the knife in their right hand, making it unlikely that he is left-handed.

Verdict: He is likely right-handed.

The Computer User (Typing at a Desk)
This person is using both hands on the keyboard, making it difficult to determine dominance. Many left-handed people still use a mouse with their right hand due to default setups.

Verdict: Unclear—could be either left-handed or right-handed.

The Cleaner (Sweeping the Floor)
He is holding the broom with both hands, making it hard to determine his dominant hand. Most right-handed people place their right hand on top and left hand lower when sweeping, while left-handers may do the opposite. Without clear positioning, it’s hard to say for sure.

Verdict: Unclear, but he could be right-handed.

The Photographer (Taking a Picture of the Squirrel)
She is holding the camera with both hands, which is natural for photographers. The shutter button is typically on the right side of the camera, meaning she is pressing it with her right hand. Most right-handed people use cameras in this way, making it less likely that she is left-handed.

Verdict: Most likely right-handed.

The Squirrel (Eating a Nut)
The squirrel is using both hands, which is common for animals. Unlike humans, animals don’t have hand dominance in the same way.

Verdict: The squirrel doesn’t count as left-handed or right-handed.

The Waitress (Serving Coffee)
She is holding the tray in her right hand, which is an important clue. Left-handed people often use their right hand to carry things while keeping their left hand free for more precise actions. Since she is about to serve with her left hand, this suggests she is left-handed.

Final Verdict: The waitress is left-handed!

Why the Waitress is the Left-Handed Person in the Puzzle

There’s a simple trick to identifying left-handed people in real life: They tend to use their right hand for support and their left hand for actions requiring precision.

In this case:

  • She holds the tray with her right hand to keep it stable.
  • She serves with her left hand, which suggests that’s her dominant hand.

Most right-handed people would naturally do the opposite—holding the tray with their left hand and serving with their right hand.

This small but important detail reveals her true handedness, making her the left-hander in this puzzle!

Video : Who is left handed

Encouraging Readers to Engage: Did You Get the Right Answer?

Now that you’ve gone through the step-by-step analysis, did you get the answer correct? Was your first guess right, or did you change your mind after reading the breakdown?

Share your thoughts in the comments!

  • Who did you think was the left-hander before reading the explanation?
  • Did you notice any other small details that might indicate handedness?
  • Do you have any fun tricks for spotting left-handed people in everyday life?

Solving puzzles like this is a great way to sharpen your observation skills. If you enjoyed this challenge, try analyzing people around you in real life—you might be surprised by what you notice!

Keep testing your brain with more fun puzzles, and stay curious!

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*