A candle does not dim its light when it lights other candles; rather, it burns brighter.

On the day of my funeral, it’s sunny and warm, exactly as I’d hoped.

The pavement sparkles with possibility. It’s the final chapter of my book, but I can’t shake the suspicion of a new one beginning.

Before me is an archway adorned in balloons, photographs taped to the perimeters. I squint to make sense of the pictures. There’s one of me smiling on a colorful street in Colombia, my hair falling…