My grandparents want to drive up to Boston for my cousin's funeral. My parents think this is crazy, and I really do to. It's a miracle that Grandma and Pa-Pa were able to make it from Florida to here as it is, and there's no sense in pushing their luck. It's not like my aunt and uncle wouldn't understand. On the other hand if you're at my grandparents' age and this is the world you find yourself in, maybe you just say "to hell with it--we're going to do what we want to do." I don't know what I would do in their shoes. These situations are supposed to bring out the best in people.

I really didn't know my cousin anymore. We always saw them least of all our family members. It's family love. I don't know. I remember when I went to college and a former friend of my best friend there was murdered. They had had something of a falling out and I didn't really like her anymore, but I was still "friendly" with her of course. Then one morning we get a call that she was stabbed to death the night before. I had such a bad headache for no reason at the time she was being murdered, isn't that weird? The next few days were spent grieving for a person I'd learned not to care about anymore. But it was grief, oh you bet, was it ever. Another body murdered.