I've always seen a man in a neat black suit when someone in my family is getting ready to die.
The first time I saw him, it was in my great-grandmother's room at my grandmother's house; she wasn't doing well and was actually asleep the last time I visited her, and I was just sitting there staring at the TV up on the cabinet next to the bed. There was movement out of the corner of my eye and there he was - a man, in a neatly pressed black suit with a black tie and a white shirt under it. I don't remember his face. He did have a face, I remember that much, but I don't remember what he looked like. I saw him again at the hospital when she got worse.
I saw him at my great-aunt Kathy's goodbye party; she had pancreatic cancer and was throwing a party for the family to get together and just have fun one more time before she was gone. Apparently she'd heard that I'd once seen my great-grandmother's spirit walking around my grandmother's house, and asked me if I saw any spirits with her - that she'd read once that the people and animals you loved in life and death come to take you home with them. I sort of shrugged and shook my head, and lied - I couldn't see anything anymore.
The man was walking about six feet behind her at all times. Except I never saw him walk. He just ... teleported isn't the right word, not by a long shot, but it's the best word. She died about a month later.
My grandmother's health isn't great, and neither is my grandfather's. The last time I visited their house was Christmas 2013 (though I have seen them since), and I couldn't fucking wait to leave. The man was out on the porch - staring out the backyard, actually, not into the house. I remember him not looking in the house because I remember seeing hair instead of a face. When we left, he'd moved from the side porch to the front porch and was watching the car.
I still don't remember his fucking face.
It bothers me so badly. I hate how much he creeps me out.