Maybe it was a mistake for me to accept Taylor's offer of a walk on the beach. Then again, I am a big believer in God's guidance and fate. So maybe it was meant to be the way it was.
We left the back patio and stepped onto the sand. We walked and we talked and we laughed.
He told me things he had learned from his books on astronomy. "Did you know that there's a type of star called a degenerate white dwarf?" He turned to look at the waves. "There's another kind called a red giant."
I laughed with him. "We should write a story for the kids. We could tell them all about the degenerate white dwarf sitting on the shoulder of the red giant."
He pointed to another star. "See that? It's the first star of the morning. A morningstar."
I stared up at the star, entranced, for a few moments before answering. "It's beautiful. Tell me about your day?"
We settled against a dune and he spoke of his day. He sounded so unhappy that it made me cringe. His depression was worsening all the time.
By then it was time for me to put Zoe to bed, so I left him to his thoughts after promising myself to get him some counseling.
When I woke the next morning, I somehow knew he was gone. I cried and I grieved and I moved on.
But every time I see a morningstar, I can still hear his voice saying, "Mom, that is your morningstar."
