I remember when my great grandmother died, the night of the funeral, the whole family gathered at her house and that night we all scrambled to find someplace to sleep. Without hesitation, I wound up in her room, in her bed. It didn’t even occur to me of any spiritual ramifications involved, I was just exhausted from the day and I slept in that bed hundreds of times so it was more out of a need to not sleep on the floor with my farting cousins than anything else. I took of my clothes, closed the door, and just passed out. Now several times that night one of my aunt would open the door slowly and say something like, “Momma?” ... which annoyed the shit out of me. I think she mistook my snores and my own farting as some sort of ethereal message from beyond without thinking that someone would be as so bold as to sleep in a dead woman’s bed. I remember talking about that with my brother once and we both agreed that although neither one of us truly believes in ghosts, if my great grandmother showed up that night... how fucking cool would that have been!