It does fill me with a sense of wonder.
So many stars, such an expanse of sky.
My world feels small. I take care of my corner. Well, on good days I do. Other days I think I am even pretty lame at doing that. The piles of clothes that have no laundry basket to legitimize their presence on
the floor are one hint that I am failing. The unfinished stack of quilt tops is another. Then there is the lack of variety in the meals this week. With all the interesting vegetables and spices offered at the grocery store why do I make the same old things?
I have friends in high places. My mother and father have both graduated to angel status. I keep replaying the times we had near the end.
My father took me shopping the
last time I went to visit him. He was too weary to go into the store so he handed me his credit card and invited me to buy anything I wanted. Really??? My heart rate stepped up as I picked out colorful silks for a Star of Bethlehem.
If I try to imagine what that generous offer meant to him, I realize that digits in his checking account were losing their sparkle, as he began to look at the stars as his future neighbors. Perhaps the stars in my
eyes as I came back with a bulging bag of silk felt brighter than a bank statement.
My mother slowed down too, though I am ashamed to admit I was distracted enough by four year old twins that I did not catch the warning signs. I forgot to ask her, "Can you still stand in the shower? Do you need me to cut your toe nails?"
I would be glad to cut them now, but she is too busy
dancing.
I sometimes sleep under the Star of Bethlehem made on my father's dime. It keeps me warm and I can pretend he is close. He does not need it anymore. He is cozy under the real Star.
