Meteor Showers

It's that time of the year when the Perseid meteor showers decorate the August sky. In honor of this astronomical event, I am publishing two stories, written in August of 2007. That's five years ago, if anybody is counting. A 13-year-old David and I watched the meteor shower together, and we both wrote stories. I'll start with David's and continue with mine, and I'll try to cry only happy tears while I remember.

Perseid Meteor Shower

      by David Traff

Joe, David, Em, and Laura, in the summer of 2007

            The day was August 14. The time was 4:00, A.M. My alarm went off, and for a second, I thought,

            “Why in the world is my alarm going off now?”

             Then I remembered: this was the night of the Perseid meteor shower. The Perseid meteor shower is an annual meteor shower that was especially clear this year due to the new moon. My mom and I had agreed to get up at four to go down to the field at Jefferson Elementary School, where we would sit and watch the meteors. My heart raced as I rushed to change into some long pants (I had been wearing shorts) and get downstairs.

            We drove down, picked a spot, spread our blanket, and lay down on our backs, our shoes soaked from the wet grass. At first, we didn’t see any meteors, and the only thing keeping me awake was the smell of the fresh night air. Then, we decided to go more towards the middle of the field, where we figured we would be able to see the meteors better. After only about 30 seconds, we saw the first meteor. A bright speck of light shot across the sky so fast, I had barely registered that it was there before it was gone. “WOW,” I thought, “THAT was cool.” So we laid there for a while more, watching, talking, and enjoying ourselves tremendously. My mom just looked at one spot in the middle of the sky, while I looked all around, often seeing large meteors just out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t want to miss a single one. We stayed until I had seen 25 meteors, a number we had agreed upon while watching them; then we drove home. After we pulled into the garage, we stepped out for a moment, and my mom said,

             “Let’s wait and see if we can see one more.”

            As if on cue, an extremely bright meteor shot across the sky, right between the trees. My mom and I agreed that that was the coolest thing we’d seen all night. After that, we went back in the house, and my mom told me to get back to bed. I knew there was no way I was going back to sleep after that, but I tried. I failed, but I tried. 

Meteor Shower

By Elizabeth Traff (August 14, 2007)

            The dew-drenched grass soaked through my sneakers as we walked across the school grounds, looking for a place to spread our blanket. Four o’clock in the morning is a dark time of day, but we were looking for a spot that was shielded from the surrounding street lights. For us, darker was better. My thirteen-year-old son and I were damp, chilly, and thrilled to be up at this insane hour. We were ready to watch the Perseid meteor shower.

            After a few readjustments to our blanket placement, we settled in and focused on the sky directly above us. We talked in hushed voices, not wanting to break the silent reverie of the night. Could we pick out any constellations? How long would it be before we would see the meteors? As it turned out, it wasn’t long at all. The new moon and clear sky provided us with perfect viewing conditions.

            “Mom, did you see that one?”

            “Yes, David.”

            “It was more of a shooting star than I expected.”

            Silence.

            “Wow! That was a bright one!”

            We lay there, he counting each streaking light he saw and I cherishing the moment. I fully understand that there may not be many more times when this youngest son of mine wants to get up at four in the morning and lay on a blanket in the schoolyard with his mom, just to watch an astronomical event. And since he’s my baby, my moments like this are numbered.

            Our four children, just yesterday all chubby cheeked and taking their turns heading off to kindergarten, are now 19, 17, 15, and 13 years old. The oldest has completed her first year of college. Next in line is a senior in high school this year, followed by a sophomore and an eighth grader (my star-gazing companion). How did that happen? Don’t misunderstand; I love discovering who these young people have become. I enjoy hearing what is important to them, helping them uncover things about the world, learning about their friends, and praying for their needs. It’s just that I didn’t expect my time with them to evaporate so quickly!

            In many ways, parenting is like watching a meteor shower. You spend some time getting ready, you settle in and try to get comfortable, and then, in the blink of an eye, those childhood years shoot by. I am not yet ready to fold up my blanket and go home, but I can see that I will need to be one day. I count the flashes of bright light and even learn to savor the quiet moments in between.

            There is something very special about the Perseid meteor shower that I haven’t yet mentioned.  It persists over several nights with bright meteors streaking across the late summer sky—and then it is gone. But, in a grand show of order in the universe, it comes back again every August, like clockwork. I know that the job of parenting is never done, this side of heaven. My children will continue need their mom when they are grown and have families of their own. My mothering fingerprints may still be seen in years to come, when my David is watching meteor showers with his children. But this precious time, when the pulse of mothering directs my daily activities, is fleeting. Lord, help me to do it right. “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14)

I was right. The past five years did streak by way too quickly. As we send an 18-year-old David to college in under two weeks, memories like this bless me. I will not live in the past, though. I will cherish it, as I look forward to many more great memories to come, by the grace of our loving Father. 

Joe, Laura, David, Emily and her husband Eric, in the summer of 2012