oh, dear Lord. Here they go again.

My extended family, particularly my mother's side, is tweaked out. Things were always bad with the Mungovans (mom's side) - it was an abusive household with a controlling, spiteful matriarch. Oh, and everyone in the Mungovan line has depressive tendencies. Mmm mmm good.

But last year, when my grandfather died - well, when he died, the glue that held the family together vanished. (This was the inciting incident in the First Week of Bad, which I MIGHT get around to documenting one of these days, if I can break down the giant mental block.)

Nana was hopeless, my aunts depressed, and my mother was flakier than a snowstorm.

I had hoped that they had finally gotten a grip on their grief and moved on with their lives.

But I was wrong.

Tomorrow, my nana, my mother, and my mother's 4 sisters are going to Chicago.

They are going to go to a group session of "Crossing Over with John Edward."

Oh dear.

I hope they don't think they're fooling anyone with this. They are going in hopes of contacting Popop. I know this. And it's only going to make them more insane.

Think about it. If he does contact them, they'll miss him more and they'll get addicted to this whole psychic contact thing. If they don't hear from him, then does that mean he's not in heaven? Doesn't love them? Is angry at them?

Can't we just let sleeping grandfathers lie?

I really don't want to go down this road again. It was my first big loss, it was sudden, and the wounds are still there. I don't think I want to know how this little excursion turns out

(And tickets cost $250 a person! Not to mention the airfare and travel costs associated with such an excursion for five people.)

There is a small part of me that wants them to hear from Popop. The little part of me that wants confirmation that there's something on the other side. But that's selfish.

I don't think Popop would approve of something like this.

And that means I don't either.

I think.