He was a very kind giant. When we stood on the hill that felt like the edge of the world, my grandfather held my hand. He set up an old telescope, poured me a mug of hot chocolate, and stood next to me under the vast, sparkling sky.
“The stars are far away,” my grandfather said. “Their light can take years to reach us. And every time we look up at the night sky, we are gazing into the past.”
On clear nights, I can still see my grandfather resting his arm on my shoulder as I drink hot chocolate. He was present throughout my life, as steady as the stars. But now he is gone, and I sit here, staring at the same night sky, wondering how everything in the universe seems unchanged when my world has completely transformed.
It is not only beautiful but also poignant. If aliens from a distant star system were to look at Earth now, they would see this planet as it was decades ago. They would see my grandfather, and I would be going to church, driving through the English countryside, and soon gazing at them through a telescope.