Join the Stars


Sorting through old papers, I came across stories my mom write in college. Keep in mind she didn’t go to college straight out of high school. She was in her 40s when she went to USF. We were, in fact, in college at the same time (though not the same place).

This piece is dated March 17, 1986. I don’t wish to be morbid, but I find it impossible to see anything my mother did and not calculate how much time she had before her death. She was 42 in 1986 and had three years left. Well, three years and eight months.

I know she writing about her time in Pearland, Texas, where she lived in a trailer park and had a view of Houston from the trailer’s back deck. I think that was in 1983. I’m also fairly certain who the “you” is in this narrative, but I’m not going to name him.

In any event, this paragraph speaks to me and reminds me of things we talked about and what we had in common.

“It made you angry when I told you that standing on the plain and looking into the night does not make me feel small and insignificant. Rather, it is as if my soul arches out to join the stars. That is how this place makes me feel. There is nothing between me and what lies out there in the dark.”

Thank you for reading.


KoFi for coffee.
RedBubble for art.
Amazon for reading.

4 thoughts on “Join the Stars

    1. Dave Henning

      Neat stuff!

      And just a day after I read your long-ago entry about the Ziploc bag.

      Your writing shows how important your mother was and is to you. I think that the world would be a better place if everyone was that close to at least one person.

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