how light shines

How light shines

I think about this a lot: how by the time we see stars, their magnificent light on earth, they are already hundreds of years old. And I think about how their light continues to mystify and delight us and that by the time many of these stars reach us, they are already gone. Because of the distance they’ve traveled, we enjoy their brilliance long after they’re gone. And when we can’t see them with our own eyes, we can close our eyes and feel their magic, their significant beauty.

My 9-year-old, my brown-eyed brunette with butterfly wing eyelashes who resembles my mom in appearance and personality, was with me at the grocery store yesterday. She was as happy as a lark as she ate her açaí bowl and I shopped for the second time that day. As we checked out, the angel worker woman with the hot pink lipstick smiled at her, asked her name, and my daughter said, Izzy, and smiled back. The woman said she could tell she was sweet. She’s not wrong. Then she said, she had a granddaughter with the same name and that it seemed like a perfect name for my daughter too.

When my daughter smiles with her cute apple-y cheeks, it’s like she’s presenting something golden and sparkly and it’s impossible not to smile back or get teary eyed or want to hug her. My sister calls her her therapy pet. My mother-in-law calls her Cupcake.

As we walked to the car, I told her she reminds me of my mom, her grandmother, Susie, who died before she turned two. I tell her this often. My mom had the same impact on others, she smiled at everyone, chatted with them, and left a warm glow in her wake. It was contagious and the ripple effect very real. I’m so grateful I feel it all the time. Around me and in me.

Coincidentally, my senior in high school wrote a paper that I read this morning about my mom’s influence on him. It was my mom that showed him the importance of spreading kindness everywhere she went. He interviewed my middle daughter who remembers making up songs with my mom and always having so much fun with her.

Yesterday, I bought tinted moisturizer at the mall and the woman helping me told me everyone had been so nice all day. I said, “Don’t you love nice people?” To which she said, “yes” and I said, “me too.” We wished each other a happy holiday and were off on our own merry way. But that light, that interaction was a soft blanket that stayed with me for the rest of the day.

Family and friends, thank you for being here. I’m wishing you so much love, health, joy, peace and all good things this holiday season and in the new year.

Also I did a podcast if you have any interest in giving it a whirl, I really enjoyed chatting about grief and writing with Lindsey Salatka on her podcast, Thingish, and loved her book, Fish Heads and Duck Skin. : https://lindseysalatka.substack.com/p/all-i-feel-is-love