For this prompt I challenged myself to write a scene after viewing some NASA images of a telescope capturing the birth of a star. I probably only spent like half an hour writing this but I had a lot of fun as the story just unleashed itself on the screen before me. I may definitely come back to this because I really enjoyed developing the characters in such a short piece and I could see the potential of something more, especially with the protagonist, Larry.
So, I present to you:
The Birth of A Star
“A composite image of Herbig-Haro 46/47 shows jets of gas moving away from a star in the process of being born. “
The birth of a star is truly a magnificent sight. Images from over 1,400 light years away are captured by a telescope at the European Southern Observatory in Chile and then broadcast across the world wide web, available for my streaming pleasure as I sit in this waiting room on the sixth floor of the Children’s Hospital of Illinois. The footage reveals the violent birth of a star in the Vela constellation. I sit there in awe as the photos show the star ejecting matter into space at speeds of up to a million kilometers per hour. I’m amazed by the amount of gas being emitted as it jets from the star outward into space, in search of it’s place in the universe. My amazement, as unbelievable as it sounds, is short-lived; as three doors down the hall from me another star is being prepped for birth. My granddaughter, Dakota. I glance up from my iPhone to look at my wife, Angel. She’s containing her excitement by focusing on her crotchet patterns, and I dare not disturb her. No, I just watch her gracefully as my nostalgia takes me back to a time not that long ago in which we were in the same shoes as my son, Barry and his wife, Kate. “It’s hard to believe isn’t it?” She asks. The lost-in-memory look on my face must be more transparent than I thought. “Thirty-four years ago.” I respond. “Thirty-four years ago I held your hand as you gave birth to the most amazingly, beautiful boy on the face of this Earth, and now look at us. Sitting here while he holds his own wife’s hand as she gives birth to the most spectacular star in the universe.” She laughs. “Oh, Larry please.” She gestured for me to calm down. “You’re going to get me all worked up.” “I can’t help it dear.” I move across to the seat next to her and take her hand into mine. “Could you ever have imagined this day back then? I can’t believe we’re going to be grandparents.” She giggled. We have had this talk multiple times. We’ve discussed our excitement and our fears of becoming grandparents. Of taking that final title of Grandpa and Grandma. I never expected to be a grandfather at 58, but then again I never expected to be a father at the age of 25. I think about all of the problems we faced after Barry was born. We were so young and unready. Not like they are now. He and Kate are so valiant and have been dauntless in preparing for baby Dakota. I am so proud of the father that my son has developed into. He hasn’t missed a single parenting class, we just completed construction on the nursery and he’s been at his wife’s side through the entire process. Still– I can’t shake the nervousness of becoming a grandparent. How will this new role affect me? What will my responsibilities be now and in the future? I’m not getting any younger. That’s definite. The snow on the mountaintop is looking a little bit deeper and the flame of the torch is starting to dim. But that doesn’t mean it has to die. I’m ready to pass the torch. I’m ready for my son to join me on the mountain and hopefully, one day Dakota will have children of her own and they will carry the same torch, or climb their own mountains. I can only hope with sanguine optimism that God permits Angel and I to be able to stick around long enough to guide her on her journey. After all, it’s as they say you’re only as young as you feel. Or, 60 is the new 40. (At least that’s what they tell me.) And I feel young. I still work. I love my job. I can’t see myself retiring anytime soon. But if I did, I know that Barry would be more than capable of running the store himself. But I’ve still got some years left in me, and besides, his place is at home with his wife, at least while baby Dakota grows up. I wonder what she’ll call me. Grandpa, Granddad, papa, Grandfather. I just don’t know. All I know is that it is my duty to support her. To love her for who she is, and for who she will become. To provide guidance and counsel for her when needed. Angel drops her crotchet needle and I’m suddenly transposed back into reality. She jumps out of her seat as I turn to see my son walking down the hall, still in his scrubs. He has a smile on his face cascading from ear to ear. We both flee to him in anticipation as he opens his arms to us and radiates happiness. “She’s beautiful.” He exclaims as he pulls us in with his hardy, familiar embrace. He leads us towards the window and we see the nurse handling our stout, little bundle of joy. My wife clutches my arm and tears of exulting delight stream down our faces. I glance at her before looking towards my son, who is still beaming with jubilance. “The birth of a star is truly a magnificent sight.“
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