Day 21

At the end of my suffering there was a door
I was ready to go. The waiting was anxiety inducing.
I didn't want the long goodbyes. I didn't want the knowledge that I was going. I didn't want the sadness. I went through life not dealing with emotionality well. In the end I was forced to deal with it. Mostly by shutting things out. I had my routine and I stuck with it and that at least made me comfortable if not content.

But through the door. I took my first timid step into the unknown. The lack of pain made me pause. The pep I felt confused me. I drew my shoulders back and took a deep breath of fresh crisp Fall air. A deep deep breath and I moved forward. But taking a look around I realized that I was on my porch. surrounded by our lovely flowers and the squirrels were dancing in the trees, waiting for me to toss them peanuts. No cars passed. The soft breeze rustled the tall tree tops. My bike was there. The bike that I rode a few times then had to give up on because I hadn't the strength or the will to build the strength. I hopped on and began to pedal down the path and the driveway until I reached the sidewalk.

As the front tire left our property the landscape became misty and I was on a gravel path with grape vines all around me. I pedaled on, looking at the mountains and the houses which were hundreds of years old. Small, modest homes. A woman about my age was outside hanging laundry on a line. She had a flowered scarf on her head, plain brown shirt and pants with an apron. I smiled hesitantly, and she waved back. On I went.

At the end of the vineyard the mist appeared yet again. Before me rose the Eiffel Tower surrounded by pink blossoms and tourists. The sun was setting behind the Tower as I rode on the pathway towards the monument I'd always wanted to see. The lights sparkled exactly as I thought they would.

There had been so much I'd wanted to see. I allowed life to limit me instead of taking changes or adventures. Now I am able to do anything I want and I have a full agenda for the next millennium.