As I sit on the bank of the river, my toes dipping in the cool water, I dream about being somewhere far away from here. Everything is the same around here. The same people gossiping about the old lady who lives in a house large enough to fit ten, or about Jenny, a girl who just turned twenty and how she should be focused on settling down, finding herself a nice man, getting married and having children. There’s times I would gladly exchange places with the old woman. At least she had made her decisions, and created her memories over a lifetime. My future still lay ahead of me.
I lift a leg, and tap a toe on the surface of the water; circular ripples birth around it. As I watch it grow and dissipate into nothing, I think about the old lady. Her name is Elizabeth. People have discussed whether it will be her cancer or Alzheimer’s that gets her first.
I tap my toe on the water again—this time harder. The ripples spread out further this time.
Our lives are like the ripples on the surface of the water. We touch this world, if only for a time, and our effect reaches out to others. We can touch a few or many depending on the impact we make. And, yet, while inevitably we will fade away, those who witnessed our ripples will never forget us.