A Long, Slow Walk

My legs are starting to hurt, and my feet ache. We have walked several miles so far, though it feels a lot longer.

The people walking in front of me are starting to bow their heads from tiredness, and I desperately try to keep mine upright, whilst looking ahead.

The ground is damp beneath us. Our shoes crunch on stones and wet grass and other things I do not wish to see or think about.

Either side of us all are trees of the most vivid greens and browns and reds; a collage of autumn hues that makes my heart ache with the sheer beauty of it all.

My heart also aches with sadness, and dread, as it knows where we are all going. But go we must: there is no way backwards, only forwards.

We continue to walk, many of us in a long line, all carrying our burdens on our shoulders and in our hearts. I am so, so tired. I cannot wait to rest.

But we are nearly there, I can feel it. A break in the trees, a light cutting through the branches, illuminating the 6 by 4 feet spaces before us.

One by one, we each head to a grave we know is our pathway to the other side, the gateway between life and the beyond, and one by one, we tip forwards and let ourselves fall.

Though we don't hit the bottom, because there is no bottom; merely a drop through darkness into blinding light - and we are moving through every beautiful memory from our lives, until we are gone from this world.

In the land of the living, our loved ones hold our hands in hospital beds, and weep, or smile, or kiss our foreheads and say goodbye, as the last snippets of life leave our bodies.

We are finally at peace. And we will see you there.