if my uncle is able to come home to stay - that depends, i suppose, on the success of the radiotherapy, the kind of progress he makes in recovery, and his emotional state, and whether there will be a nurse therapist coming to the home - then new arrangments have to be made because he will have to be in a wheelchair, and will not be able to manage the stairs. they are discussing how to create a bedroom on the ground floor for him - perhaps convert the living room? or else build extra walls to turn parts of the back garden, the space we use now to hang clothes, and create an extra room. illness brings changes - and i think that i always fear change at home - including, or especially, the physical changes - and of course i try to fight the childish response - if it has to be done it has to be done - and already i am starting to think of things that my uncle will need in his new living quarters - i want to go home if only to be able to help move the furniture from the upstairs bedrooms, help paint walls, something. but there was once, you know, the two houses were mirror images of each other. when i was little, my grandfather said, it was my house and i gave it to your father, and one day he will give it to you. i like the continuity of generations symbolically invested in the passing down of physical house and land, and i always feel modifications made to the house break that down a little, even though of course i quite see the low king's point about new blades and new handles but still being the same axe. and all that is really saying that i miss home and i'm afraid for my uncle and i want to do something useful.