Come death, I will depart this valley. Not before. With death I will let go of those few things to which I still hold. Family. Home. Earth. I do not need to know what comes after, or if anything comes after. I accept it, even if it is endless darkness, endless silence. It is what it is, and I am mortal. Such is the way of all flesh.
Yet, I live. Still. And those things that I hold bring me comfort. Family. Home. Earth. The green pines. The owls. The sounds and sights of living.