Lights in Space

I'm sitting in my favorite chair, in my favorite house, in the best place in the world right now--Grandma's house. When I am here, everything gets better. It's so easy to be happy, so easy to let the little unimportant trifles slide away. I'm staying here tonight.

Have I got the most amazing grandparents, or what? I have too much fun with them. Tonight there was a space shuttle that passed overhead in the night sky, at about nine-thirty. Grandma set her timers so we could go out at exactly the right time to watch it.

Grandma headed out the door ten minutes early, "I'm gonna grab my little sticks and go right now. I don't adjust to the dark very quickly these days." She reached in the coat closet and pulled out two long, ski-pole-looking things and began treking through the garage. Grandpa followed behind her.

After I finished checking to see who was on Facebook (9:30 is the "magic hour" to chat with the peeps, namely Mike, and he was online, but he didn't say hi or anything at all), I left my computer and headed out to see what my grandparents were so excited about.

Stepping out onto the driveway, I could see the silhouettes of two old people slowly walking side by side, one carrying a couple lawn chairs, the other a couple of "sticks." Above them, a vast, blackish-purple sky, freckled with stars, and planets, and swirling galaxies, twinkled and stretched onward forever and ever. They set up the chairs at the very end of the driveway, right next to the road--the best view. An occasional car zipped past, illuminating the old couple lounging in their lawn chairs by the side of the road, but Grandma and Grandpa didn't seem to notice, and the cars didn't seem to care.

Grandpa knew exactly where the shuttle would appear, the path it would take, how long we'd be able to see it, and just when it would flicker out of sight--he told me. So we sat in the dark (it was pretty chilly) and waited.

I saw it first. What seemed to be a star, brighter and steadier than the others, and moving upward. "Is that something?" I asked, and pointed out into the night.

"Yes!" Said Grandpa. "That's the shuttle!"
"Where? I don't see it." Grandma stood from her chair and leaned against the fence.
"It's the only thing moving up there." Grandpa pointed.
"Oh yes! Yes! Oh! What fun!"
"There's two of them!" Grandpa spotted the second, less brilliant light moving closely above the first.
"Two? What? Where? I don't see it." Grandma gazed harder.
"Hold your thumb out, it's about a thumb's width above the other one." Grandpa held out his thumb, measuring the distance. Grandma, in turn, gave the sky a big thumbs up, then looked back at Grandpa confused.
"A thumb's width?"
"Well, it's about a thumb and a half now."

Pretty soon the two lights were directly above us, cruisin' along, and Grandma finally spotted both of them. She kept exclaiming, "Oh! Oh! Isn't this exciting! Wow! Whew! Duane, are you enjoying this as much as I am?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're not saying anything!" Grandpa and I looked at each other and laughed. Grandma kept on going, "What would my father think of this? We're so lucky we get to see things like this! Oh! Oh ho ho! Whewee!"

The lights in space sailed deep into the Northeast, then, just as Grandpa described, they blinked out. The spectacle only lasted three or four minutes at the most, but I don't think I'll ever forget the experience. It wasn't just the two lights in space that made it so unforgettable, but the two old folks parked in lawn chairs at the end of their driveway, gazing up to the stars, so excited about a little traveling light in the sky. How simply wonderful.