I just spent my last night in the apartment. I slept on the couch; my bedding has already been moved out. Actually, everything has been moved out, the space is empty. The large picture window in the front was used to house my oasis of plants; they’ve since been relocated.

As nighttime fell, I looked out the picture window and had a clear view of the graveyard across the street for the first time since my first night here, before the jungle covered it. I never realized what an expansive view I had of the dearly departed, and I stared for a minute as the half moon illuminated headstones and tree lines across the way.

All those people over there, the dead ones, I wonder how they’re doing in the afterlife? Did they achieve their dreams? Did they have enough time with their loved ones? Did they do all that they set out to do? Did they even bother setting out to do them?

Guess it doesn’t matter now, they’re dead. But I’m not. Not yet anyway. I’m reminded that my stay on this Earth isn’t long and could end at any minute. I have no control over that. There’s nothing I have control over, except how I live right now, in this moment.

I want to live every moment with meaning. I want to share my energies with those who will lift me when I’m down and ground me when I need it. I want to be those energies for people too. I wish to show my children the true meaning of unconditional love. I want them to know I see them, their true selves, and love them no matter what.

Those gravestones across the way are placeholders for those who no longer have the opportunities that we do, to live. I’ll always remember the picture window which showed me the future, like a portal through time.