“…I would have strangled him by now!” said Mum today when I visited for lunch with my sons.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, raising an eyebrow quizically.
“He’s waking me up every night,” she said. “He’ll wait till I’m in a deep sleep then he’ll start to shake the bed. I’m not going crazy. This place is haunted. I’ve also seen a woman with a dog and a man in a trench coat standing in the doorway, but I don’t know either of them.”
“But your father…if I ever meet him again, I’ll go through him.”
And I know she would.
I would have been totally sceptical about this once but I’ve said elsewhere that he came to me one night too. Now I have no real idea whether this is purely a product of our imagination and in some ways that doesn’t matter because at the time it happens it’s as real as anything is.
Son number 2 couldn’t help but scoff so I told him he could expect a visit from his Grandad tonight in his thermal singlet and y-fronts. If you’re reading this Dad, go easy on him 
