I remember it so clearly, it was summer – July to be exact – the evening sky was just starting to show off its brilliant finale of the day with bursts of colours as the sun set below the mountains.
My phone rang as I was driving away from the hospital, it was Gramma, just calling to say goodnight after a long day of tests, visitors and uncertainty.
“Hi Honey!” she would begin almost every conversation with those words.
I mentioned the sunset and how I wished she could see its beauty and she said I would just have to witness this one for her until she got out of there.
This woman single handedly taught me to notice the small (and large) beauties in everyday moments – the chickadees as they fluttered around playfully, the remnants of robins nests and robins blue egg shells, the moment the snow started to dust the mountains surrounding us and the sunrises and sunsets over those same mountains.
She taught me to read tea leaves and to believe in myself; and to know that I was loved and loveable throughout the ups and downs of life…
And then slowly after we lost her I lost myself.
As I was scrolling through photos I took trying to choose the perfect one for a post I realized that I capture an absurd amount of sunsets.
**Pausing to wait for the tears to stop flowing**
She never made it out of the hospital to see another sunset, and it just dawned on me that I haven’t stopped capturing them since she passed.
Maybe it’s subconscious, a way to keep her memory alive.
Maybe it’s my way of keeping a promise I didn’t even know I was still keeping.
Maybe they’re signs from her – to make sure I notice the beauty even when life becomes a struggle, or darkness threatens to snuff out the light.
Maybe, it’s all of those things.
The people we love don’t disappear.
They remain in the moments that catch us off guard; their scent that suddenly fills the air, their favourite song playing at the exact right moment. Their love that reaches us through the realms that separate us.
And sometimes…
In breathtaking sunrises & sunsets that stop us in our tracks, make us look up and remember.
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