The Last Walk Along the River Trail
"How lucky I am having something that makes saying goodbye so hard." -Winnie The Pooh I had lived there so long that I no longer had an answer as to whether the river walk was drab or beautiful, because to me, it was home. It was familiar. I walked along, kicking a pebble off the road, and looking out over the Columbia river, rushing. Always rushing. The clouds were swiftly changing and to the right of my horizon, grey skies were creeping in. And I knew, this time, that it really was the end. No more maybe's, no more unfulfilled plans. We had already arranged for a moving van, and the boxes were beginning to assemble, scattered with treasures of the last ten years of my life. The only ten years I could hold on to. Then I thought of them. The warm nights of fellowship, the hikes, and the soft mornings with freshly brewed coffee and donuts. I thought of the memories I would cherish, and the friends I would leave. Faces animated, each with its own unique and irreplaceable