I have been rather distracted recently with thoughts of time, or more specifically how little time we really get in this life. My grandfather passed away on Sunday. He was 97 years old and suffered from dementia in his final years. It's a relief to know he is finally at peace, yet it's difficult to come to grips with the concept of death and to see my father cope with the loss of his remaining parent. It's a heartbreaking reality that I don't want to imagine being in myself as I cannot conceive a world without my parents, the anchors to my vessel. We all think our time is endless here, but really there are no certainties about tomorrow. It's a large dose of perspective and a reminder to be present in the day, everyday.