Ever since the funeral of his grand-father the cross had always had a special meaning to him. Not that he was religious in any way, God no, but in the church during the ceremony it had just been too hard to see his loved ones crying. His eyes had therefore sought something else to look at, because looking at his crying father, who he had never seen crying before, just brought too many tears to his eyes. He had found the big cross in the ceiling with the tortured Jesus and looking at that cross gave comfort, perhaps only because it made him avoid looking at his crying parents, but still.