on August 14th, again

Dear Bernadette,

Last night meteors fell across the sky, all those stars crashing through space at the same time, a hundred every hour. When I was younger my Dad would wait until dark and then drive us over to the bluffs at Makamaw beach to watch the August showers. I'd squint and focus on one point in the distance until he would say no, not like that, open your eyes to the whole sky, relax them and you'll see. And then they were everywhere. In front and over, in my periphery to the left and the right. I couldn't keep up with counting. Last night as I lay in bed next to Mike I imagined what was happening above our too-bright-to-see-stars city and thought of you.

We went through photo albums before bed. Picked out our favorites and talked about you. Just before we fell asleep Mike asked me what time and I said I thought it happened around noon. At noon today he will be wrapping up his introduction to the Principal of his new school, doing the job you told him he should pursue over a decade ago.  I know you will be there with him. You're never far. And when I stop trying to remember so hard, when I just relax and open my eyes, you are everywhere.

Onward full tilt we go,

Caitlin