"It'll be fun," my mother said. "Three whole days down the coast, three days to meet and bond with your grandfather." I met Granddad's hand at the beach, his leg in the basement and his foot in the garden. It was three days before I met his head, drinking at the bar. Three days to meet all of him. "Granddad's dead," I told my mother. "Don't be ridiculous," she replied.
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