Just glad there are stars in the sky

Sarah Chaucer lay back on the ground and twiddled with pieces of grass underneath her. She reached behind her head, and took her long, auburn hair out of its ponytail holder, and let it flow freely on the ground.

She could hear her mom in her head. “Sarah, get up. You are going to get your clothes dirty and grass in your hair.”

Sarah, now at age 50, laughed, “You are right, Mom, but it is OK. It will come out.” She said out loud to herself. Sarah stretched out her legs - rubbing out ‘imaginary’ wrinkles in her jeans before getting still. She stuck her hands in the front pocket of her maroon-colored pullover hooded sweatshirt with the ‘Texas A&M’ logo on the front, and settled in to watch the stars appear above her.

She was laying on the hill in the front yard of her family’s ranch in Madisonville, Texas. The hill was a natural thing - no one had made it. It was a grassy area with a large oak tree, a bed of zinnias and a picnic table with benches.

To the right of the table, there was a spot where if you lay down on the grass, you had a perfect view of the sky - so close a view that it was almost as if you could touch the stars.

Sarah, her brothers, Max, Brian and Kevin, and sister, Lucy all had spent many an hour on the hill individually and together or with friends solving the problems of the world.

And sometimes, they just would sit and watch the sky or the birds, or the horses and cows in the valleys.

Tonight, with a cool, crisp fall breeze enveloping her, Sarah was out there by herself, listening to the frogs croaking in the pond nearby.  The sounds of the frogs were favorites of Sarah’s - and she missed them when she was away.

She could hear traffic on the interstate to the west of her, and the occasional vehicle passing by the house. The driveway was about five miles from the hill and the house - which was a replica of a Southern plantation with columns and two stories and large bay windows on the ground floor.

Sarah could hear the cows talking to each other near the barn, and the horses were neighing at the donkeys and goats in the next pen. Her dad was outside … she could hear him laughing at something. Sarah looked up toward the front porch of the house - her daddy was sitting in the swing, and her mom was sitting in the rocker nearby.

Laying her head back on the ground, Sarah smiled. She watched the stars pop out in the sky above her.

Her mind was clear for once. Over the last two decades, Sarah had been going through a long, extended ‘mid-life crisis …’ She survived ovarian cancer without treatment - just surgery. Her sister had died due to a drug overdose. Sarah’s dad had a heart attack. Her favorite dog had died. She kept trying to write and pitch proposals for books, but she kept getting rejection slips.  She had gotten a divorce. Sarah went through surgical menopause - and that landed her in mental health treatment.

First was in-patient for high anxiety - post traumatic stress syndrome, and then outpatient to muddle through and get control of her anxieties. She went to Christian counseling, and got involved in some online and in person Bible study groups. Sarah even took time off of work - she was an award-winning news journalist for a major metro-newspaper.

Sarah came back home to hang out with her parents as they grew older, and to concentrate on her writing - her goal was a group of short stories compiled into a novella. She took a job writing obituaries for the local newspaper - owned by her dad’s brother, Joseph, and taught horseback riding on the side.

In the last four years, Sarah had slowly started becoming herself - a better version than the one she lost she thought. Sarah smiled to herself, swatting at a mosquito. “At least, my mind is not running like Daytona on race day.” She said.

So, coming home was good for her.

And taking time to watch the stars at least three or four times a week had become her ‘quiet time’ - when she just sat and was ‘still’ listening for God.

A bright star to her right caught her attention.

“Sarah Jo, what are you doing?” Art Chaucer walked up the hill.

Sarah picked her head up, and saw her dad. “Just stargazing, Pop. Where’s Mom?” She asked.

Art walked over, and carefully sat next to her on the ground. Sarah scooted over. “She is talking to her sisters on Zoom.”

Sarah laughed, “That just makes me get tickled. Mom and my aunts are getting technical doing all this video calling.”

Art laughed, and lay down on the grass beside his daughter. “So, what stars are you seeing tonight?”

She pointed to the right above them, “That is the Big Dipper, isn’t it?”

Art squinted. “Yeah … What about that one over there?” He pointed to the one shining right above them.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “I do not know that one, Daddy.”

“That is the Artimus Saramus.” Art had a serious look on his face. Sarah looked over at her dad, “The what?”

“The Artimus Saramus … It is in the shape of …” He couldn’t finish it, he started to laugh because Art noticed his daughter looking at him.

Sarah lightly punched his jacket sleeve. “Daddy … You’d think I would catch on one day. But that is a pretty unusual star.”

They lay out there in silence for a few minutes, both looking at the star. “I can’t tell what shape it is. It kind of looks like a daffodil,” Sarah said.

Art laughed, “It looks like a doughnut to me with sprinkles on it. See, it is round, and there looks like a hole in the middle, and little dots around it.”

Sarah laughed and shook her head. “Dad.”

“Yeah, Boo.” Art asked.

“Thank you,” Sarah said.

“For what?” Art asked, slowly sitting up, putting his hands behind him.

Sarah turned on her side, and rested her head on her right hand. “Thank you for letting me come back home.”

Art smiled, and pushed her lightly back over. “What else was I going to do? You wouldn’t stop bothering me until I did.”

Sarah shook her head.

“Sarah, I am teasing. Honey, you coming back here has been good for us too … I will deny it. But no, really, you are welcome. Our doors are always open for you,” Art said.

“Look at the stars,” Sarah said. “Each and everyone of them has to go through this rigorous process to become a star.”

“I see where you are going, but you know, let’s don’t therapize it. Let’s just say you are where you are supposed to be right now … and leave it at that.” Art winked at his daughter.

Sarah laughed. “OK, I know.”

The two of them sat there for a few more minutes. Sarah sat up next to her dad, and they gazed at the stars a little while longer.

“Well, I am going inside. Your mom is going to be looking for me if I don’t get back. Don’t stay out too late,” Art stood up. “It is 9 p.m.” He looked at his watch.

Sarah nodded, “I will come on in with you … the mosquitos have been biting.” She stood up, and wiped the grass off her jeans.

They walked on in the house, and Sarah said good night to her mom, and went to her house on the property - a mother-in-law style home with two bedrooms, a large living area/dining area/kitchenette and laundry room near the pool in the backyard.

Sarah got her shower, and put on her pajamas. She walked to the window in her bedroom, and towel-dried her hair. She stared at the stars she could see. All of them were bright still.

She couldn’t help but smile, and she was not sure why.

But Sarah decided to not think about it, and just be glad the stars were in the sky.