Makes me think of one of the last good memories with my husband as he was slowly dying of Alzheimers. We had gone to the country to shut down our cabin for winter (Nov. or Dec.). I knew there was supposed to be a meteor shower that night, at least one a minute predicted. I put some blankets and pillows out on the grass, covered us with quilts, and held hands while we watched the silver streaks cross the sky. He couldn’t speak much by then, but he would squeeze my hand and smile from time to time, especially if a bright one flashed by. Thanks for reminding me.
That’s a good one.