Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

I was already content to do as my mom wants and wait for the funeral.

But now my grandma would be saying the same: no visitors. She is still having hospice care at home and she doesn't want anyone to see her, even her daughters (the ones who don't live with her anyway, I didn't hear if she has any opinions about E, the one who does).

Mom told me that my grandma thinks that my grandpa (gone since 2012) is in the basement -- as he so often was, in his little workshop.

Then Mom said Grandma thought that one of my cousins was there, one that rarely seen during our childhood but was along with her sister the most recent to visit, at Thanksgiving. Also, those two are the children of my aunt E, so might feel "closer" to my grandma right now.

Then I guess my grandma thought "all the grandchildren" were there with him downstairs. It made me think of how much I loved their basement: getting ice cream or freeze pops from the big chest freezer, jumping on the sofa, playing Pong on a tiny TV and the Atari console so old that all it would do was Pong...

My mom's distressed by my grandma "seeing people that aren't there," but I am finding this a lovely and comforting image.

I could quibble with the assertion that I'm not there. I don't know about spirits or ghosts but I do feel like a lot of me is in that house. When I first moved to the UK it was their house I missed, more than the one where I'd lived my whole life.

I like to think we're all hanging out there, my cousins and my grandpa, having ice cream and playing cards or something.

I like to think my grandma is imagining my brother there with the rest of us.