So what comes after life?

The other day, I reflected on the passing of my sister in law a year ago, as I watched a sunset on the watery horizon of Lake Ontario. As the sun began to go down, I realized that the passing of a person is much the same.

When the sun goes, you do not see it anymore. But you know the sun is still there. At first, the afterglow lets you know this, for the rich red, yellow, and purple echoes of the sun's light deck the clouds and sky out in a superb glory - if anything the sun is more present than ever, though you now cannot see it. (I reflect how many signs we had in those first days, how her afterglow shone with a beauty that made it impossible to believe she was not near in some way.)

But after the afterglow does eventually come the night. However, the sun is still there. As before it remains that you simply cannot see it.

And if you look hard enough, you still see signs of its presence. The tan on your skin when you see the mirror. The light reflected off the moon. The sun's kindred, the stars, proof that starlight always continues.

When a person's sun sets, their light is merely passing out of reach. For how could a person pass out of existence, simply for crossing the horizon?