Each life is marked by a series of small victories and defeats. Laughter dying on lips as triumphs melt slowly to sorrow.
Joy and suffering, painfully intense then not, drift in and out, as clouds slow-dance each day to dust.
Time passes, shoes are switched, roles reversed, backward and forward, round and around again, so at the end, are you but a sum of days? Added and multiplied, subtracted and divided, until at last there is meaning to them.
That is, if you remember them at all.