The Summerland Advocate-Messenger - Reliable, Trustworthy Reporting, Capturing The Heartbeat Of Our Community

“I need a sign to let me know you’re here. All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere...”

That song lyric, from “Calling All Angels,” by Train, kept replaying in my mind Monday evening, when we gathered with approximately 30 individuals to view the great conjunction, at Honey Creek Observatory, north of O’Neill.

Low, rolling clouds blanketed the southwestern sky. Occasionally, a sliver of the waxing gibbous moon would surface, offering a quick glimpse at its corona. The Christmas star, though, remained under cloud cover. Occasionally, a strand of light would trail through a break in the clouds, but nothing like the star of light we all wished we could see.

In a year when chaos took center stage, I wasn’t surprised Mother Nature refused to cooperate and offer a ray of hope. For months, I’ve been planning to capture a photo of the celestial event and use it on the front Page of this edition of SAM, a reminder of the story of the birth of Jesus.

Even as I write this column, at 6:17 a.m., on Tuesday, I’m wondering if I can get a picture this evening, when Jupiter and Saturn start to separate. The observatory director said the two planets will be remain close again tonight. Will it have the same impact, the same powerful message? Or, should I use a beautiful graphic of the Christmas star in its place?

Something about the timing of the alignment, its bright light a guiding beacon of love and hope, seems so appropriate for a multitude of reasons. ‘Tis the season.

I won’t deny there’s a feeling of disappointment in not witnessing the once-in-a-lifetime event. Part of me knows there’s more to it.

“I need to know that things are gonna look up, ‘Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup ...”

Since the day after Thanksgiving, Dad has been battling COVID. We’ve been told his case is mild, but when you’re 93 years old and have underlying health conditions, mild is difficult to define.

For three weeks, it feels like I’ve been scrambling to find a way out of this mess for him.

He’s tired. He’s losing strength. His appetite is waning, although he did enjoy a white chocolate peppermint truffle when we visited Sunday. He still loves his sweets. (Yes, we were allowed inside to see him. Full PPE required.) And, he video chatted with a few of the grands and great-grands.

I’ve been mentally preparing for the inevitable since Mom died nearly six years ago. You always think your parents will live forever, and in the blink of an eye, years spin faster and before you realize, time expires.

“I want a reason for the way things have to be, I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me”

I wanted to see the star shine so brightly - and witness the shooting star several Lincoln friends viewed cross the twilight sky above the planets - as a sign of peace, a symbol of everlasting love. I will be satisfied keeping those signs close to heart, knowing God is always present, directing us along the way.

“When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head, When you feel the world shake from the words that are said, I’m calling all angels, And I’m calling all you angels. I won’t give up, if you don’t give up ...”

As you celebrate Christmas with your family, hug them all a little tighter this year. Always believe in hope and the promise of miracles. I know I do.

I’m calling all angels and wishing each of you a Merry Christmas.