I attempt to climb a hill. I have climbed many hills and have reached the top each time. Everyone is amazed as they didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t think I could do it either. At the top, I wave to those I left behind. I really miss them. I think each time I have to say goodbye a part of me is ripped away and is left at the scene. I wonder what it will feel like when it’s not my choice to say goodbye. It scares me to think about. I imagine there will be my life before and my life after. I have fallen off many hills. Everyone is amazed as they didn’t think it would happen. THAT I wasn’t so surprised about. At the bottom of the hill I look for those I left behind. They don’t recognize me. I guess that is what happens when so much of you has been ripped away.
