As a soft breeze caresses my face in the break of dawn, I decided to sit down next to a freshly dug hole near the lighthouse. Beside me lies a wooden box with simple floral carvings, where I once wrote down my dreams. As I was touching the smooth surface of the wooden box, I couldn’t help but wonder how I ended up here.

When I was still young, naïve and filled with dreams, I used to stroll around the lighthouse on top of a grassy hill.

Why?

Because this place offered me not only silence but also solitude. This place was where I usually spent most of my free time for this was the only place where I could share my thoughts, ideas, sentiments and opinions without judgment or resentment.

This was my sanctuary….

Where I think about infinite possibilities
About what ifs
About my future
Or perhaps what the purpose of my life is.

So I buried my sentiments, my secrets and my dreams in this grassy hill.
That would be fulfilled one day

As time passed by, life was not as simple as it was before. Responsibilities got heavier, priorities shifted. Life just got in the way so I wasn’t able to live my life the way I envisioned it

The night after the car accident, I knew I only had a few more breaths left, so I asked God for one final favor.

To show me what it means to live
What it means to be alive

And here I am back at this grassy hill, that once was my sanctuary, wondering why God sent me here from all the places…

I reached out to the wooden box, slowly opening it…
I noticed a small piece of torn paper
I gently picked it up
And as I was reading it, I felt tears sliding down my face.
My heart raced and finally my questions were answered
From that torn little piece of paper
I now remember what it means to live again
With that,
I can now rest in peace