He has enough “honor” and “survival”. The house he built when he turned 50, as he had dreamed of it ten years earlier, was large and beautiful, on the roof with tall red-tiled spiers and a spacious room, careful enough to worship ancestors. But then she died, and the children each had an apartment, he became lost in his own dream.
Turns out, the house only lived when she was still. He rented out cheaply, and stayed with his eldest son. In his stories, the grandmother with the house was both beautiful and distant. He still loves her. That is the reason why he makes listeners tired and bored by telling the stories about her and his house over and over again. Some people told him to mumble.