THE MOMENT
BUDDHIST GUIDE TO MINDFUL LIVING
I ACCEPTED AN INVITATION to sit in my grandfather’s armchair. Big, blue, and like most things in the seventies, the chair was covered in scratchy fabric, but I didn’t care. I was nine, and with my legs folded into a pretzel shape, I was only thinking about my Pop-Pop. He was in the less comfortable chair across from me, smiling as we played checkers. Candy seemed to sprout from his shirt pocket, and I peeled away the sapphire wrappers, working my way through roll after roll of peppermint Lifesavers.
There was no reason to think this would be the last time I’d see my grandfather. But a few weeks later, I was at summer camp when I was pulled from the evening activity to meet my brother by the mess hall. “Pop-Pop died,” he told me. He’d had a heart attack, and we were going home for
