I'm going to the airport, but my traveling companions already left without me. My cousin Shelly offers to give me a ride, but I say why don't I just go on the train or bus? She says, well, everybody else got to go by car, so I should get to also. So she drives me.

At the airport, my cousin Peter is helping me in some inexplicable way. He is just always around, smiling, being helpful. At the purchase counter, he suggests ten New Zealand souvenir packs, and I say no, how about 20? Good thing he reminded me, I had almost forgotten, and I'll wish I had some of those when I get home.

Then I remember Peter passed away several years ago. He is like a ghost. How nice of him to come back and help me after his death. I thank him, and he just smiles, saying nothing.