Tonight we await the Perseid Meteor showers and I remember 2020, the year I watched them with Celia on the trampoline.

She and I talked of many things, including the baby her sister was expecting, who showed up right on schedule the next day, our first grandchild. After that, Celia moved to Seattle, where she’s lived happily with her husband ever since.

I’m a lucky mom to have two of my grown daughters nearby. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the one who lives on the other side of the country. Sometimes she seems as far away as those specks of light streaking across the sky.

But then I remember the conversation we had that special night, or any number of other times we’ve visited here or there, chatted for hours on the phone, or otherwise shrunk the miles. Those times are like meteor showers, spectacular light shows that boost my sense of wonder, that remind me how good it is to be alive.

(No great star shots. Last month’s full moon is the best I can do.)