Last Friday I was riding in my convertible at sunset. The sky was brilliant with purple and pink clouds as the sun sank into the horizon. It was the kind of moment where you can’t take it all in because the scene constantly changes. My eyes welled up with tears as my heart was full of the beauty. I immediately thought of my son. How many sunsets are left for him? Will he miss this world? Is this the sunset of his young life? I must remind myself that after the sunset, without fail, there is a sunrise on the other side.
I have the same thoughts all the time. Almost every day. Thanks for sharing.
It’s hard to carry this much grief, isn’t it?