Between the Is and the Was

Life is a bit chaotic lately, and I find myself driven to bring order in any way I can. Not OCD, but just enough to try to make everyone feel a little better in some way. But in between all my busy "helpfulness" I've been thinking lately about how strange all of this is. As my cousin said the other day, "That's not my grandpa in that room." It's so confusing. Here at the house, I could easily pretend he's just on a trip. Everything is how he left it, waiting to be picked back up where he left off. But then I hear about funeral plans and find myself watering flowers and plants in the yard that are drying out without his faithful care. We talk about memories and the last things we did with him. It's like he's already a "was" while he still "is." My grandpa is not who he was. But he still is.

Today when I was in his hospital room, I sat by him and just put my hand on his arm for a long time. I had thought about doing that all morning, actually. I was thinking about how one day soon, I will not be able to do that. But now, his arm is still warm. He still is.