Holding On

It doesn’t stop. The dying, the funerals. There is this invisible, dark threshold you cross at a certain age, and then it begins. Your grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, friends, spouses, all continue to disappear. Swallowed up into the unknowable void. You tighten your own grip onto the edge and avoid looking down. Sometimes your soul gets restless, yearning for those who are gone. You’re surprised at how quickly those who you’ve lost recede from your memory, and sadly realize it will also be your fate to be quickly forgotten. Nevertheless, you hold on. Because you want more, you need more. Because maybe there is still time to experience more of your dreams.