I have been drawn to the sun more than I normally am since Eli's death. I notice how it is hidden on overcast days. It is almost blinding on a clear, summer day. There is a different light cast when it peeks over the mountain in the morning than when it shows its last rays at night. The colors that welcome a new day are very different than the colors that say good night. The sun is anticipated and welcomed at the start of a new day. It is bright, and almost harsh, as it inches its way over the mountain. The colors that surround a sunrise are like a crescendo until the full light finally shows itself. On the other hand, the colors that accompany the sunset are usually deeper and richer. It seems slower and more full than the sunrise. There is a lingering feel to a sunset as you hold onto each moment.
I think of the cycle of life and death. Sunrise and new life seem to parallel just as sunset and death. Both are beautiful. The light of a sunrise is anticipated and waited for. In contrast, you hold onto the last glimpses of light before the sun sets. I think about the rest of the time the sun is up....the rest of the day. It doesn't hold as much beauty. I never look at the sun at 11am and just stop and stare and soak in the moment. But I do that a lot when the day starts or ends. There is unique beauty in beginnings and endings.
The beauty of a sunrise and a sunset never happen at the
same time. There are distinct separate events with different colors; different
emotions. They never happen at the same time
...until they do.
We experienced
the splendor and beauty and emotions of a sunrise and a sunset in the same day
as we experienced the birth and death of our son.
In the end, I wasn't left
left thinking...
"That was it? It was so short...."
No.... I was thinking I have never seen anything like it and I never will again. It wasn't a disappointment ...The furthest thing from it. I didn't feel cheated or short changed. Rather, I felt it a privilege to get to see that kind of beauty. And knew I would never see anything like it again. I knew it was rare and priceless and a gift that most people don't experience like our family did.
