I can remember the first time I saw a sunrise.

I was four years old, and too young to be up that early, but I had never heard that many birds before, and couldn’t sleep. My father was sitting by our campfire, his coffee clutched like a treasure to his chest. But the coffee was placed on the ground without a second thought, and I was scooped into his arms, held high above the earth, the closest I would ever be to heaven. 

He pointed to the rays of light stretching their fingers through the trees and said to me, “Close your eyes, and feel the warmth. That is what it feels like to love.” 

And all of these years later, as I close my eyes and feel the sunset on my cheeks, I think he was right. Love is like laying in a warm sunbeam, or sitting on a beach with water rolling off your body onto your towel, the sun drying you off drip by drip. 

I have lived a life full of love, warm like the spring sun, and hot like a crackling fire. I will miss the warmth the most I think, but as I leave, I will the relish rays the sunset splashes on my face.