I sometimes forget how droopy my eyes were when my Grandma lightly shook me awake. I sometimes forget crawling out of bed and putting on my pink fuzzy slippers. I sometimes forget holding my Grandma's soft wrinkled hand and being led through the darkness of the house, tip toeing each step. I sometimes forget Grandma dressing her oversized gray mountain sweatshirt over my nightgown as we grab a threaded blanket and prepare for the early morning cold. Sometimes I even forget my sister was with us; also dressed in a grandma fitted sweatshirt. 

 But I will never forget the cool breeze filling my lungs as we walked on her porch, and the darkness of the country woods before us. I will never forget the feeling of sitting on Grandma's leg, my sister on the other leg, Grandma squeezing us in a tight hug. I will never forget the first flash of light, like fairy dust, flying through the sky. We sat in awe, watching as more and more stars streamed through the sky. Like silver needlefish, diving and disappearing into their black sea. I will never forget the silence, how every word was said but nothing at all while the stars illuminate vivid trails. I will never forget.