Do you ever wonder how many pieces of yourself are left behind?

I was going through some photos my dad sent me, most of which were taken in Canada, some of which were taken in Toronto. I live now in Alabama, but a piece of me will always remain in Canada, the country I love. Another piece of me is left behind in ecology, in the what-could-have-been of a PhD in the field I love. So many pieces of me are scattered in different places and different times -- will I run out of pieces one day?