Night Skies

My fascination with stars truly began when I was five years old. It was right after my Dad had passed away and I was in the car with my aunt and my mother. As we drove, my aunt began to tell me that my Dad was in heaven now and that all I had to do was look up at the stars and he was right there. At five, the thought of this was fascinating. I stared out the window and looked at each star from my window in the backseat of the car. I remember trying to figure out just which one he could be. Some stars seemed to shine brighter than others did and just as I settled on one star in particular being “my dad”, I would see another one seemingly brighter than the one I had chosen before it. The reality was, that I didn’t know enough about the man to really know which one he could be or have enough information to make a guess with my five year old mind. I had spent more time with my grandparents than my parents and what little I did know about him was a brass mixture of good memories and chilling stories told to me by my well meaning grandmother.

For years after this night, I would glance up towards the heavens and ponder the thought, what if it were true? What if, my aunt had been right all along. My Dad was just up there in the night sky, waiting, watching over me, just wanting me to look up and see him. Most nights, the thought of this made me laugh to myself, knowing it was somewhat silly to even contemplate. Some nights, however, I wanted it to be true. Please be true. On those nights when the day had been too long, too hard, too much to even think about, it needed to be true.

Eventually, I decided for myself that although that may not be exactly how it works when we die, there was a distinct possibility that each star represented a soul. A light that had gone out here on earth but that shined on in the night sky to help light the way for those souls still wandering the earth. A simple light, not strong enough to light the sky on its own but in culmination with all the other stars, could provide a comforting illumination to all those seeking their individual paths through life. Although somewhat childlike, it was a sweet thought.

It was this thought that had me once again wandering my backyard in the cool stillness of night, staring up, once again, at the stars. My Mom’s light here on earth had gone out and now as the light from all these beautiful stars lit the sky with beautiful radiance, I stared longingly at each star once again. Which one would she be? The brightest one I could see or the one just bright enough to be seen by the naked eye? My mother was not the wannabe center of attention. She much preferred the solitude of the background. Content with being a participating member of the group or crowd but not the leader. She was sort of the drummer in the band. The unsung hero.

My exploration led me to a small, seemingly half-lit star off in the distance. I studied her, as she seemed to flicker to keep my attention. A smile slid across my lips without my even realizing it. “There you are”, I said to myself. “Hello Momma”, I whispered. Thoughts were suddenly racing in my brain. Should I talk to her? Why would I talk to a star? My neighbors are going to love this, me wandering the yard talking to myself while staring at the sky. I settled upon just sitting in the chair, letting the coolness of the night’s air surround me like an old quilt, worn from time. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift back to a time when she was still here with me. Before we knew she was sick. Before cancer, once again, stole what didn’t belong to it without thought of the injustice or even consequence. Anger set in as I sat there, thinking about what could have been if it had not been for this disease of destruction. I want to be the one, I thought. The one who finds the cure, the one who kills it. The one who strangles the last breath from it’s nasty lungs. I want to erase its very existence. I’m no doctor, not by a long shot. It surely will not be I who has the pleasure of one day destroying this killer of man and beast but the thought that I somehow could, gave me some sense of comfort, of peace.

I’m an orphan now. A product of an alcoholic sociopath and a narcissist. These two “breeders” had joined in union just long enough to produce a child who was now destined to spend her days pondering her existence, her purpose, her plan, and let us not forget, searching the heavens at night for the possibility of a familiar light. “I’ll be fine”, and "Life must go on" are now mantras sung daily by, yours truly. I am a 46 year old, grown woman. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I can light my own path, so to speak. So why then, am I once again, sitting in this familiar chair, breathing in what has now become all too familiar air? Seeking comfort and companionship from the blanket of darkness draped across a once clear blue, cloud sparse sky? Maybe. Or maybe, I simply enjoy the shimmer the stars bring to the darkness. In either case, I will sit here in this chair, wrapped in my old familiar quilt, and relish in the peace brought to me each night from a captivating, celestial canvas painted by the creator of all things good and bad. “Hello, old friends”, I say quietly, taking a deep breath.