Just before the sunrise, you kept track of the climactic progress of sun. It was so beautiful when the light came at a low slant over the mountains across the golden field, that you were naturally grateful to another day broken. With your brain rebooted with blissfulness, you ran into the early-February for the family reunion. In the mind, you were at the climax of your life when you got the message about your son who graduated summa cum laude. But for real bona fide celebration of your 60th birthday, nothing could beat the afterglow of its brilliance. This morning, it seemed to take much longer than any other sunrises until you could walk into a new day. That's probably because you couldn't wait to have your family around. You just wished the sun showed the best way for your family. At the thought of their driving all the way along the highway, you've got some smile lines in the right place, and you were more willing to take a lot of everyday mediocrities than ever. Yet you had something on your mind, if any, a tiny bit of heaviness, the most unique feature of which was rather sweet. You tried to let it slide, but you ended up wrapped with one or two ideas lingering in your head. It's all about the concern that you're losing the opportunity to get into power. And then you were left with a fatalistic advice. It's all about going not too far.
