And that is how wisteria lane came to be my final resting place. My ashes were spread over grass I had once walked on. Beneath trees that had once given me shade. On top of roses I once admired. And beside fences I once gossiped over. And after my friends had finished saying good-bye, a wind came along and took what was left of me into the air. As I looked down on the world, I began to let go of it. I let go of white picket fences and cars in driveways, coffee cups and vacuum caners. I let go of all those things which seem so ordinary, but when you put them together, they make up a life, a life that really was one of a kind. I’ll tell you something. It’s not hard to die when you know you have lived, and I did. Oh, how I lived.
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