Today was supposed to be a productive day. But it’s been composed of unexpected conversations with family members, my neighbor, and God instead. The past couple of weeks have been full of conversational moments—some with words, some without. As I write, I’m thinking about the familiar warmth of my grandmother’s body next to mine as we lay side by side in her tiny hospital bed just last week, watching game shows from 1979. As we watched the fuzzy show flicker across the flatscreen I wondered how many of the people in the audience and on stage were gone now. Did they take their prizes with them? My grandma laughs at their antics and feels far away from me, like we are living on two different channels. Her backbones are fractured and I don’t want to say goodbye.