Last night, when I put my son to bed, there was something out of the ordinary. If you know children, then you know the bedtime routine can always be a bit sanity-draining. It starts with the push/pull of “Time to go to bed!”, “No!” followed by enough silly requests to make even a celebrity assistant overwhelmed.
Last night was a shift from the norm.
My son was visibly tired and instead of his 21 requests, he had merely one question for me.
“Where do we come from?”
Now, normally this is a question that would make most people panic. I’m surprised it didn’t make me have a heart attack, actually. Instead, I answered quickly and from the heart – (which is trait I possess that often gets me into trouble, but this time, it actually helped.)
His normal 21 questions starting with “Why?” or “Why not?”, following my response were null. Instead his eyes light up, and he simply smiled. He smiled a “knowing” smile that only some relatives of mine recognize. It is a “knowing” smile of “seers” and all things visual.
What I found to be even stranger, and somehow fated, was it took place right after a long day where there had been a lot of spiritual conversation going on in my personal life. The subject of “the stars” just seemed to keep popping up. Earlier that morning, we shared a spotless, but heart-wrenching piece from Rara over at Stories with a theme of stars tied in as well.
It all got me thinking. How small we all are in such a vast, boundless universe. So, I created this piece, another inspired by my beautiful, kind, intelligent, sensitive being of a son.
and I titled it: