I think I’m going to be sentimental when I’m older. (Who am I kidding… I already am). I’m going to be sad to leave people. I love people. As terrible and sad as they are—and even knowing how wonderful Heaven will be—I’ll miss them, because they’re special. They’re all so different, and I haven’t the time to meet them all, just as I don’t have the hours to read all the books and watch all the movies and hear all the music. But I want to get to know as many people as I can. I want to meet travelers and waiters and dancers, moms and librarians and homeless men. I want to see what they love and hate and how they think. Because though Heaven will be heavenly, I know it won’t feel quite the same, quite as earthy. In Heaven, there won’t be the mystery and thus the magic we have here. We’re crazy humans, and sometimes we miss the sad, sinful, and lonely, even when we don’t want to admit it.
So I know I’ll be sad to leave this silly, sorrowful sphere about which I can say I grew but never knew anywhere close to enough.