So I was cleaning the cat box before bed (insert nose-wrinkle here), and I open the garage door to head out to the trash can.  Warm, almost-humid air greets me, and suddenly the song “Southern Nights” by Glen Campbell comes to mind.  Man, I used to hate that song.  And I haven’t heard it, or thought of it in decades.  But now it accidentally transports me to a 1970’s summer – complete with memories of skateboarding down a California sidewalk and eating Frito Pies at the swimming pool.

I tilt my head up.  The sky is cloud-free, and I can see ALL the stars.  I accidentally forgot how much I missed them.

One star glows brighter than the rest… yellow, then red… copper!  It hangs low in the southern sky.  (And now an Eagles’ song plays…)  My old eyes create an ethereal double-vision-blur, and I accidentally forget that getting old sucks.  I start wondering if it is a star at all. A planet maybe?  A tiny sun a gazillion light years away (I have no idea what a light year is, but miles just doesn’t sound right) in the center of a tiny universe?  And maybe there is an old cat-lady accidentally seeing me at the same time?

I remember that the Perseid meteor shower is this month.  I know because I just circled the 12th on my calendar this morning.  I stare straight up into the sky and a comet streaks overhead.  I can’t believe my luck!  I make a wish, of course, and grin because I just accidentally saw the first meteor.  I was sad for a moment that no one saw it with me.  But then I remember all the nights I’ve shared, laying on my back on the warm concrete, or stuffed, 15 months pregnant into the front of a car, getting accidental cricks in my neck while watching for flashes of light in the sky.  Sometimes it’s okay to celebrate alone.

I consider dropping down onto the pavement and enjoying the night for a while longer, but I know myself too well.  I will accidentally let the whole night creep by, and without sleep, I will not be the best “Kiki” I can be (H is in town for the weekend!).

I turn and head back into the garage, and as I get close to the back door, I glance down and see that two strings from camping gear have accidentally formed a heart.

I am accidentally happy, and it is wonderful.