The Last Summer

I look to my left and see her lying there entranced in the sparkles above. Mom is scourging the darkness for a racing beam to jump across her view. Behind me, my brother is quiet – antsy, squirmy – but quiet. Tears are flooding my eyes and I choke back this lump that has filled my throat. This might be the last time I ever live at home. I know it, he knows, and Mom knows it. Sneaking outside to watch this meteor shower together might be the last of our impromptu excursions. There have been many throughout the last 21 years. The three of us found a rhythm together: milkshakes or Taco Bell at midnight, laying on the end of one another’s beds for evening talks, walks down the road by our house, pizza picnics on the living room floor.

Last summer actually did turn out to be the last time I ever truly lived at home. I have have planted some roots a whole state away from those Southern Indiana back roads. Now there is The Mister, and the three of us has turned into the four or even the five (my Dad) of us when I go back to visit. It’s a welcome change and one that was inevitable. But it will always be sentimental to me to think about those moments and truly cherish what they symbolize. I have an incredible family and millions of beautiful life experiences to thank them for. I know what coyotes sound like and look like because we would look up at those stars. I can identify a bat whizzing past my head because we would look up at those stars. When I look up at the sky at night, in the depths of my soul, I know I am loved and incredibly blessed because we would look up at those stars.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Stars can be so magical, I agree! Always watching over us. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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