No. 4

I hate being sick; more than that, I hate feeling sick. I think that happens alot more than my actually being sick; its also easier to ignore, which puts me at risk of actually being sick. Vicious cycle I know, but very hard to break.
So I've been home for 2 days now; not actually sick, but feeling really awful--sore, feverish (no fever though), nauseous, etc. But also very productive, in a sneaky way. Jeannie was having her "friend" come to clean up & re-organize the garage yesterday; and boy did we find a treasure.
I always knew my grandma painted a lot of china and some canvases; but never really saw much except what has always been out. We uncovered a treasure-trove of her work yesterday--notebooks, sketches, and maybe a dozen canvases in various states of starting/stopping/giving up. Some were really beautiful; some not; but I plan to put more of them up in the house now, just because this is/was her house and these paintings were done when she lived here.
I hope this would make her happy to know that I found them, enjoy them and plan to put them up. She was never (to my knowledge) very happy; she was bitter and old by the time I tried to get to know her. Its hard to get through to someone in that state; kind of like banging your head against the wall; it feels so much better when you stop.
So I do somewhat believe in ghosts, or spirits or something like that; and I do know that I've felt my grandfather here in this house with me. Her not so much, but maybe this will appease her, make her happy or happier to know that I do love her here; love her house and all its surroundings and memories. And now she will be a bigger part of it than she has been, if only because I found more of her life here, her paintings & sketches & notes.