Paths etched in memory

Nine hours devoted to writing and revising the dissertation may seem excessive, but not after the hundreds of hours devoted to crafting this manuscript. Time to rethink, revisit, and reorganize, moments to recreate tables, rework phrases, and codify sentences, and walks to chat with friends fill my day. I reflect as I walk to the office, a path I've trod countless times: this will not be my sidewalk, my stairway, and my breezeway much longer. I've raced along this walkway, waded through rivers of rain, and strolled, admiring the flowers; moments spent walking in sun and wading in rain along this pathway will end. I try to count forward to my last walk along this way. I've discovered alternate routes: past flowers, protected from rain, most or least doors, direct and circuitous. All these routes mapped in my brain may fade with time as I move on, pursue new paths, and seek new avenues.