Imagine flying over a town. From above it looks all neat and tidy with bright streets, dark buildings and people flowing from place to place. Feeling the tug of gravity beneath my feet I soon realize that a city is not a place of buildings and parks but it’s identity is the personalities of the people that paint it’s streets. What can you see as your flying? I see a window flowing with bright lights. Mixed in the light is the silhouette of a man sitting alone with a blank expression of sorrow on his face. As I look at his wrinkled face and withered hands I  see not of loneliness or despair, but a lifetime of memories. I see him lying still and cold, as whiffs of sterilizer creep into my nose. I can’t see what he is thinking about because I already know. Before I realize it I become immersed in his memories. “I was seventeen. My life was far from perfect, at the time. I was sleeping in the bitter cold under the pier. It was the only home I ever knew. This was the first place where I felt whole but it was also the last. This was the very same place that I met the love of my life. I was walking the shore line trying to find sand dollars, with the scorching sand under my feet I looked up and  saw the most amazing girl I have ever seen. In that moment I knew I would spend the rest of my life with her. Her name was Annie. From that day forward we were inseparable. We got married in seventy-nine and by the time we knew it we had five kids. All were perfect in there own way. I knew that life wasn’t this good to kids like me, the ones who as they say “trouble-makers”. We went to the sunday morning service and then out to a picnic at the beach- the place I use to call home. The kids were swimming and Annie and I were sitting on the shore taking it all in when she said the words I deathly scared of hearing. She looked at me and said “Neil… I need to tell you something…” Everything bad that could ever happen was running through my mind at this very moment. “The test from the doctors came back and I have leukemia.” That was the longest moment of my life. In movies they show cancer patients with months to say good-bye and to at least come to terms with dying but it wasn’t like that for her. She was gone before the hot summer air turned to cold winters’ gusts.” I could feel the warmth of his body slowly leave and his body turn cold. All defenses and all strength was lost. The last memory was about the woman who filled his life with happiness. Taken too soon but loved so much, he had what everyone wanted. A place to call home. Not all things close up are as what they seem, just like the neat city you see above is a jumbled up mess of differences when you get inside.