I looked at Mom.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to be scared.”
Grandpa took my hand.
“And I didn’t want to go to the hospital before keeping our promise.”
“What promise?”
He pointed toward the telescope.
When I was five years old, I had once told Grandpa:
“One day, I want to stay awake all night with you and watch shooting stars.”
I had completely forgotten about it.
He hadn’t.
That night, there was going to be a rare meteor shower, and Grandpa had spent months repairing Grandma’s old telescope so he could fulfill my childhood wish before his surgery.
Around two in the morning, the three of us were lying on the porch.
I was on my mattress.
Grandpa was on his.
Mom sat between us.
Suddenly, the first streak of light crossed the sky.
“I saw it!” I shouted.
Grandpa laughed.
Then came a second one.
And a third.
At one point, Mom rested her head on Grandpa’s shoulder.
And suddenly, I understood something I hadn’t even considered earlier that evening.
My mother wasn’t afraid of Grandpa.
She was afraid of losing him.
The next morning, Grandpa was taken to the hospital.
The surgery lasted more than five hours.
I spent the entire time sitting in the waiting room, holding the small cap from his old telescope in my hand.
When the doctor finally walked out, Mom immediately stood up.
The doctor smiled.
“Everything went well.”
Eighteen years have passed since that day.
Grandpa is very old now.
But every year, on the same date, I still go to his house.
We lay two mattresses on the porch, place the telescope by the window, and wait for the first shooting star.
And every single time, Grandpa smiles and asks:
“So, are you staying beside me tonight too?”
And from the other room, Mom always calls out:
“Just don’t let her fall asleep on top of you this time, George.”😭❤️
A mother’s heart is always thinking about her children and hoping they are safe. Do you agree?❤️
