This morning, out of the middle of nowhere, he told me, "It's the third day."
"Huh?" I ignorantly replied. "What do you mean?"
"The third day since she left," he explained.
Still ignorant, I said, "Oh. Is that important?
Still patient, he replied, "Today is the day that she knows that she is dead. Tonight she will visit her family one last time.
He paused, and then finally added, "I'm not scared."
Wonderful how there are echoes from one tradition to the other. The resurrection of Jesus was 'on the third day' after his death. Perhaps it took three days for him and his disciples to know that he was dead. Then, as the story goes, he visted them again on the Easter morning, The disciples were scared when they first saw him, but soon they were joyful. He stayed a while, appearing to them from time to time, reassuring them that there was still a bond of love and action between them. May such a bond remain between your friend and his grandmother.