the telescope sitting in the narrow hallway of the apartment complex didnt exactly look like it belonged. it was placed in the only viewing spot available and mars, the object he was trying to locate was positioned conviently between the rooftops. dad had taken a few trips to bring out peices of the telescope, lens and rods, and carefully put it together. i followed him as he brought out the chair and towel. sitting down, he bent to bring mars into sight. my eyes rose to see the planet glittering despite the lighting of the parking lot. dad draped a towel over his head and put his eye to the lense. in a few minutes, he would let me to have a look. i squinted to make out the details he described and asked questions. he used his hands to mime where i should look for the shading that seemed to quarter the planet. i looked again, and every few seconds he brought mars back into the center of my view.
probably still in the rafters of our old garage, lies the telescope my dad built when he was a teenager. it was an almost mythical thing to us when we were kids, something we looked at and told stories about to our friends, but never touched. none of us could remember it in use, or if we did, the memory was foggy or vague. still, dad showed us what he could without using a telescope; pointing out planets or stars and telling us their names, helping us to locate certain constellations and getting us outside for especially strong meteor showers. the telescope never came down from its place in the beams, but we longed to share our father's awe of everything celestial, staring hard to find whatever it was that captured his gaze so intently. that captured him so...
i had another memory tonight, one of being woken from sleep to see halley's comet. like other memories i have of childhood, its fuzzy. often im unsure whether these sort of recollections actually happened or if ive created a picture and held in my mind all these years. i mention it to dad tonight and he tells me as he remembered it that night. and its silly! its silly to be upset that he did not remember me there, he did not remember waking me for that sparkling display. in my memory i was there, even if in his, there was only my older sister.
so maybe i didnt see halleys comet. i have to wonder.. who has it right? did i merely wish so badly to have been there, i made melissa's memory my own? or am i the one who has it right? was i there but simply not remembered?
but...i still have the memory, fuzzy and vague, of dad calling us to get up and see, come quickly to see halley's comet cross the sky. i was excited to be awake at this hour and the night air cool was on my skin. it was so easy to spot; there was no need for dad to even point. we exclaimed over how beautiful it was, until we were made silent with awe. we stood in the grass close to the gravel drive, watching, and then dad said it was time to go back to bed. i reluctantly dragged my feet over the dew soaked grass and dreamed of faraway lights glowing in a deep dark sky.
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