Lunchtime

I just had lunch with my grandpa.

I've been holed up in my room, working and eating out of my freezer mostly, so this morning I suggested we head down to the local Italian place for lunch. We just hung out, catching up and chatting. Nothing earth shattering.

And then it hit me: I am eating lunch with my grandpa. We're talking. He's involved in my life. I know a lot of people who would absolutely kill to be able to say the same thing.

It was a bit overwhelming actually. This might sound morbid (I don't mean it to), but I was very aware in that moment that someday when I'm sitting at his funeral, I would remember this lunch we were having. There was nothing in the content of our interaction that particularly stood out, but I'm so so so so grateful that I've had the opportunity to spend times like that with him over the past year or so that I've been home again. It feels like a simple but wonderful gift.