becoming Susan Willow
When I meet the eyes of a terrified little girl, I grin—sending her love and admiration for her bravery in continuing to climb.
There are versions of me bounding up so fast I skip a step or two, propelled by a lust for life and the thrill of discovery.
Then a halt. A young woman sits immobile, frozen in fear. I watch myself lean forward and hoist her up—letting her rest and breathe, reminding her she's not alone.
In time, she stands to climb again.
The self of yesterday steps gently into me. Together we turn to meet the gaze of a silver-haired woman with a wrinkly, toothless grin. She's at the top and waiting patiently for me.
With a smile, I take the next step... closer to the wise old woman strumming the final chord of our amazing Susan song.
I imagine her rocking my newborn Self, present through every stage of me, humming us softly into the great goodbye.
becoming Susan Willow
