Chasing the Sunset
I can't begin to count how many times I've driven up the mountains, or stood by the ocean, or lingered on the porch just to catch a glimpse of the sunset, but no matter how many I've watched or taken pictures of-I'm always drawn to just one more. What is it that draws me to seek them out? To race up the mountain...to chase the sunset as it were? Perhaps it’s the yearning for beauty when life feels harsh and unyielding. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that a sunset heralds the beginning of rest—a gentle transition from day to night. Or perhaps, its more that I know we have reached the end, and I am just not quite yet ready and so I cling to those last fading tendrils of sunlight, reluctant for the day to end and tomorrow to come. This past year, Grandma was on a journey chasing her sunset and me right alongside her. We spent our days watching her favorite shows, tapping our toes to her most cherished gospel songs, and reminiscing over old photographs and childhood memories and dreams. Amidst it all, laughter bubbled up—like the time my sister tumbled over the couch while adjusting the air conditioning, or when we experimented with new equipment and nearly rolled over my niece. Late-night music parties became our tradition. Grandma would prop her legs up on the bed, tapping her feet to the rhythm. She even scolded me for daring to place John Denver toward the back of her stack of CDs—I promise it wasn’t intentional. Throughout it all, I was astonished over and over again of how much strength Grandma had. Even in her final days, she radiated resilience. Her love for family remained unwavering, and she continued caring for us, even as we cared for her. One of the last things she said was, “You need to take care of yourself.” Concerned because we’d been awake through the nights caring for her. Yet, the realization that I had this summer as I spent time with Grandma was that as much as I hoped she would find peace, love and comfort in her final days-I wasn’t really ready to come to the end of her sunset- to the final moment when the last glimmer of light would fade into darkness. I longed for her to experience that beautiful sunset we’d chased together with each passing moment, but I wasn’t ready for the finality of that moment, when there would be no more light. And yet, here we stand. Grandma has reached her sunset, and I can attest that she was enveloped in peace, love, and comfort as she breathed her last. It happened faster than I realized it would. She rests now, awaiting resurrection morning. And we her family, her legacy, are left to witness the sunrise of a new day—a day tinged with sadness to be sure. a day filled with just a little less light. But a day that we can carry the beauty of her life within each of our moments. May we hold onto her love, her caring heart, and her enduring strength as we turn to face the sunrise.
