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You won't know the last time until it never happens again. The last time they ask to be tucked in, the last time they ask to hold your hand, the last time they sleepwalk into your bed because they had a bad dream. The last sunrise. 

Life is a series of a million tiny miracles. Magnify them. Embrace them. Do it before it's too late. Say it before you run out of time.

Four years ago my middle son PJ asked me if I could take him to see the sunrise. It seemed like an odd and mature question for a 9 year old to be asking, but I obliged and it turned out to be an extraordinary time that I would never forget. So much so, that I turned it into a tradition that I would do with each of my other two kids. A year later I took my oldest daughter Milan.

This morning I finished the cycle and took my youngest son Sully to see the sunrise. Perhaps I'm using "the last sunrise" for dramatic effect. But there will never be another first. I know it won't be as easy for us to find time to see a sunrise as they grow up and head into their own lives. They will carry this tradition on with their children, and I'll continue to enjoy sunrises with my best friend Lisa.

Sunsets are beautiful, but there is something about Sunrises that makes them more special. It starts with the ritual of having to get up in the middle of the night and head out into the pitch dark. There are few if any people around, a reminder of how exclusive this love affair is. The rays of first light flirt with the sky, and then suddenly you see that first sliver of orange sun crack the horizon. It's a birth of sorts, a reminder of the miracle of life and how small we are in the universe.

Sully and I shared hot chocolate and chatted as the sun came up. It was more like an interrogation, he has so many questions compared to my other two kids. It was bittersweet to see how much he has grown, to reflect on this timeline of life, and to come to terms that this will be the last sunrise.


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