Remembering Memories

Last night, I received some bad news. My grandfather is in the hospital with lung cancer. The doctors give him a year at most, but he might just as easily not make it to his next birthday in August. It is now exceedingly likely I will never see my grandfather in person again. I live on the other side of the world and can't visit as often as I'd like.
I have taken to stealing minutes here and there in my busy day to take solitary walks down memory lane.

I close my eyes and imagine driving up to my grandparents' driveway. I open the door to the house, and smell the familiar scent of coffee and fruit pies. My grandfather is reading a book in his favorite chair. I greet him with a kiss on his stubby cheeks. His warm hand grabs mine, and we start to talk.

My grandparents' driveway

In the conversation, we discuss his childhood adventures, the day he met my grandmother, life as a chicken farmer, and the many children and grandchildren that he's been blessed with.

As the images fly by, more and more pop up that I thought I'd forgotten.
The conscious effort of remembering brings to light even more memories through association.
In a matter of moments, I feel comforted and blessed with memories of a life well-lived.

In a matter of minutes, years of shared meals, conversations and embraces passed by.