The rays of the sun first touch the United States each day on Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park, Maine. On Easter Morning 2003, my four children and I went up the mountain to watch the sun rise. It was a beautiful experience, we watched the darkness in the East as it gave way to a reddish glow then the horizon revealed a pinprick of light that soon was too intense for our eyes. The ocean and islands were bathed in pink and golden light.
That sunrise was drenched in symbolism for me, our lives had changed over the past year and were sure to change more in the years to come but Easter and Spring bring with them the promise of new life and a time for a reverent redirection.
Within weeks E had graduated from high school and was off to college, S was soon to follow, shortly after M went to live in Italy with her father and A and I were on our own. Before I knew it, C flew in from New Zealand and I was taking a chance on another sunrise. Time flies but it seems like a lot more than five years since that Easter morning on Cadillac Mountain when I held my four children close.