My grandma used to tell me that stars were all the stories of people who were once alive. Instead of them floating away and disappearing, they'd glow in the sky to remind others that their stories were once here. She told me this when I had spent the night as a kid and while we ate Popsicles in the dark on lawn chairs starring in to the sky. Mine was grape, I know this because stars always remind me of grape. When she passed away almost three years ago this week, I couldn't think of anything that would make me feel better. You know, I had people telling me that she was in a better place seemed ridiculous. Then there were others that said that she's happier now and that I will see her again. It's been three years. Three years and I still miss her. I miss how she made every single thing in her life seem beautiful. So colorful. So special. I miss her glow. I miss how she was able to inspire me with her stories.

But then I recently stumbled upon this:

Galactic Center of Milky Way Rises over Texas Star Party from William Castleman on Vimeo.

Even if stars are just puffs of gas trillions of miles away, I can't help but think of how they still do store memories-- even if they aren't stories of people past. They still remind us that life is way more than just about dwelling on that bad latte you just had or how your toothpaste just squirted out the other end or how frustrating parking can be in the city of Chicago. They also remind us that compared to all that stuff up in the sky, we are just flecks of dust.

It's a big place out there and life is way too short to think so small.