“Shooting stars” flashed across the early morning sky Tuesday, with each trail followed by a cry of “Wow, Mom, look! Did you see that one?” Yes, it was music to my ears to hear the excitement in my older son’s voice, echoed by my younger son’s little voice saying, “I saw it, Jesse, I saw it!” Maybe I’m just nuts, and maybe I exposed us all to the distinct possibility of pneumonia (well, at least sinus trouble), but I just had to herd my 11-year-old and 4-year-old sons out the front door at 4:15 a.m. to go see the Leonid meteor shower. Though we didn’t attend the star party at UTM, we did make a mad dash down U.S. 45, away from city lights, to see the celestial show. And what a show it was. As Jesse and I stood, rather unsafely, next to my van on the side of the highway, we saw probably about 100 flashes from the meteor shower. Will watched from the passenger seat, though I’m not sure he saw as many “stars” as we did. He was, after all, complaining about the cold. Call me crazy, but it’s a memory I will treasure. My children couldn’t wait to go see the “shooting stars.” They even agreed to go to bed early Monday night (a rare feat), fully dressed, so that I could wake them in time for the big event. All evening, they asked me, “Will you wake us up? You won’t forget? You promise?” When, folks, was the last time you were that excited about something? I honestly can’t remember when I simply counted the minutes till “it was time” for something I wanted to do. Lately, my biggest thrills have been sleeping late on a Saturday (now that soccer season is over), or getting enough work done that I could reward myself with a good book. Until Tuesday, I had almost forgotten the wonder that can occur with such fascinating sights as “shooting stars,” or snow in West Tennessee, or a full moon on a cold, clear night, or any of the natural gifts God has given us to appreciate. I found that wonder again, shared with my shivering children on the side of a four-lane road, as we watched a meteor shower that is not slated to be seen again in our lifetimes. I watched men land on the moon in July 1969 on a small, black-and-white TV. I was horrified as I watched the destruction of the space shuttle Challenger in full color in January 1986. I’ve gone out to the wilderness to see a comet, checked out the planets with a telescope, and tried to re-learn my constellations so that I can teach them to my children as we sit outside on warm summer nights. I’ve seen meteor showers before, but none as spectacular for me as this one. Thank goodness the rain stopped and the clouds moved on. My sympathies to others in the Southeast who were unable to see the show, and to those who chose to sleep. As for me and mine, we won’t forget the “shooting stars,” or the fun of just doing something crazy as a family. I hope Jesse and Will never lose the awe of discovery, or the wonder of new experiences. Maybe, just maybe, this memory will last long past the toys and the fights, the joys and the sorrows of everyday life, and will come to their aid when they’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to feel like a child. After all, no matter how far we’ve come, or how far we go, we all need to have the heart of a child. We all need the magic of “shooting stars.”

Random thoughts:

1. To all UTM students who voted, regardless of whether you voted in Martin or elsewhere, I thank you for doing your civic duty, and I really don’t care who or what you voted for. Now that the election is over, I can finally speak my mind. Never let anyone tell you that you don’t have the right to express your views through a ballot box. It doesn’t matter if you’re 18 or 80, if you’ve lived in a place for six months or 60 years -- the right to vote is essential to a democracy, and one of the most precious freedoms that we have in America. It ranks right up there with freedom of speech, which I am exercising right now.
2. Be careful going home for Thanksgiving. Be thankful for the engineers who invented those uncomfortable seat belts that might actually keep you alive in a bad wreck. Remember, we want to continue to be thankful that you are part of the UTM family, and we do not wish to lose you. Also, with Click It or Ticket in full force again through Nov. 30, buckling up is much more cost-effective than the alternative.

Tomi McCutchen Parrish is faculty adviser for The Pacer, and wishes for a little magic for everyone as the holidays approach.