Never miss watching a sunset.
You don’t know which one will be the last you’ll see.
Years ago, Diane and I saw The Sheltering Sky. In the final scene the heroine meets an old man (Paul Bowles, the author) who asks her “How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.”
As that sunk in, it spurred us to realize sunsets were evanescent as moonrises, and less seen as we busied ourselves inside. We resolved not to miss a sunset, and made it part or our day’s routine.
It became a family tradition, one we all shared as a way to connect, a moment to savor life’s beauty, and a reminder of our momentary residence on earth.
Our daughters grew and moved away, but we reminded them by text message whenever we saw a moment of beauty: “SUNSET ALERT!
Diane and Jennifer are both gone now. I still text alerts to Lauren, as she does to me and her husband. We can’t tell when the last one will happen.