I picked out the outfit for my grandfathers funeral today. No, he isn’t dead yet, though by the time you read this he might be. I find myself torn right now. Part of me knows that he lived a full life and am glad to see him head on to that big roundup in the sky known as heaven, yet part of me wishes for more time. Time, something that we never seem to have enough of. Time, that I should, could, would, have spent with my grandfather. Time, that I am now spending picking out the outfit that I will wear when I stand next to his grave.

The only thing that is keeping me solidly rooted right now in my thoughts is the knowledge that time isn’t going to stop. And this isn’t the end. My life will still go on, and one day I will see my grandfather again just as I saw him a few days ago. And when I do, he will be perfectly fine. But until that time, I am left just wishing for more. This is definitely a conundrum.