Starshine

A story about time spent with my Da many years ago. He has since passed away.

Where I grew up there was very little light pollution.  Oh, you could see the faint glow of Peoria just southeast on the barest bit o horizon, but that was it. 

 

The house was located on a hill and set in a way that took advantage of the southwest winds in the summer.  We never had air conditioning when I was growing up.  It was only later when I was in college that my Da got an airconditioning unit and then a second one for their bedroom.

He never cared for it.  Grew up without running water and electricity so being without air conditioning was no big thing.  But whatever my Ma wanted, he gave to her if he could.  He did everything for her, gave her everything that he was.   

 

There were trees shielding us from the road and the rest of the world.  Even in the winter you couldn't see the road all that well.  The woods have thinned some in recent years.  It almost seemed to mirror my Da's decline.  My imagination I'm sure. 

 

In the summer, the leaves were so thick that you couldn't see much past the edge of the yard.  And the smell!  Oh it smells so good, all alive and wonderful.  It is a sea of emerald in the summer, but not as thick as in past years.  The springs have been cold and dry. 

But I think the best part of living there were the stars.  To this day I look up at the night sky and I am in awe. 

 

People who think they live in the country have no idea.  They usually have a light on somewhere near by and that is all it takes to mar the purity of the starshine.

 

Here I can see some of the larger stars that make up the constellations.  There?  There are so many stars that some constellations are difficult to identify.  And there is such depth.  It is fathomless and ageless. 

 

Da and I had a telescope at one time, but mostly we would lay on the roof and use a pair of binoculars to find the planets, major stars in the constellations, meteor showers, and comets. 

Few words were required.  Few words were ever required.  I wondered why my other siblings never wanted to participate in these excursions.  Maybe because they never had the patience for it.  Is it any wonder why Da and I were so close? 

 

I find it difficult to have the same connection with my Ma that I had with my Da.  I think I understand why now, but I will not say it here.  

 

It may seem that my Da was an ideal father from the stories I tell.  He was not.  There were days when it was hard.  It was hard to watch him kill himself slowly and not being able to do a damn thing about it.  The impotency of that is not something I wish to describe.

 

All I can do is write about what he has given to me.  And tonight it is starshine. 

Reviews

[Creepy Swine Guy]

It's funny how parents try to love all of their children equally, and yet, there seems always to be one child with whom there is a special connection. Your writing betrays that connection and makes me feel for you at the loss of your father.