I hope you looked up this week.

If you didn’t, I’ll tell you what happened.

Jupiter and Saturn got closer than they have since 1226.

In truth, they looked close, but they were really millions of miles apart.

Like my second marriage.

Nah.

We didn’t even look close.

In any event, this celestial event was called the Great Conjunction.

But what’s its function?

I’ll tell you.

Look up at any night sky.

You know what’s there?

Automatic perspective.

My favorite constellation.

If you connect the dots of the Perspective Constellation, I bet it forms someone laughing.

Like, get over yourself.

Somehow it’s moving to look up at stars that have existed since the beginning of time and will be there until its end.

Confront timelessness.

Witness eternity.

Stand in awe.

And understand that our problems, our resentments, and our heartaches will pass.

Even grief gets easier, with time.

It has, for me.

So right after sunset, I went out to see the Great Conjunction, following the online directions.

Basically, take a right at the moon.

I found the moon, but unfortunately, clouds obscured the Great Conjunction.

I waited for them to pass, but they didn’t.

I brought binoculars, to no avail.

I even had a SkyView app on my phone, which I held up to the clouds. Onto the screen popped color photos of Jupiter and Saturn with its rings, hanging out with Sagittarius, who is half archer and half horse, and Capricornus, a sea goat, even weirder.

Quite the foursome, visible only on my phone screen.

Still I stayed.

It got cold, and night fell, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

I liked the idea that I was there.

That the Great Conjunction was happening above me, and it was truly great, even if I couldn’t see it.

That’s perspective, too, isn’t it?

You want a reminder that you don’t matter, in the scheme of things?

Planets conjoin without you, no problem.

You got questions?

Saturn’s not answering.

Your call is not important to Jupiter.

You’re not even as cool as a sea goat.

See ya next Great Conjunction, in 800 more years.

Look, I’m no astronomer.

I’m just a lady in the suburbs, looking at the sky.

I’ve written 37 books and I’m the mother of a 34-year-old.

I don’t know when any of that happened.

They say time flies.

I say time lies.

Because it was only yesterday that my daughter was born.

And I can’t believe I’m 65.

I feel like I always did, only better.

So, I’m blessed.

The Great Conjunction happened on the winter solstice, which is the longest night of the year.

After the solstice, the darkness lessens and the daylight lasts longer.

Bit by bit, every day, it gets brighter.

And it is, isn’t it?

I feel it, don’t you?

2020 is ebbing away.

2021 is already better.

Vaccines are on the way, more than one type.

There will be fits and starts in getting them into arms, but it will happen.

I’ll get a shot as soon as they’ll let me.

In fact, I’ll take two.

ASAP.

I’ll tell them I’m 75.

I only look 90.

But the point is, the worst is truly behind us.

We got over the dog, we’ll get over the tail.

We survived.

Thanks to the hard work, sacrifice, and dedication from people who risked their lives and livelihoods for us.

Heroes, each and every one.

We will mourn those we lost, who will become stars in our personal heaven, our own North Stars.

Timeless, eternal, and abiding as love.

Guiding us through this life to the end of our time on Earth.

Mother Mary guides me, even today. I always know what she would do, say, or advise.

We will go on, together.

You, me, and our stars above.

The morning brings hope.

And a happier new year.

Rise.

Look for Lisa’s first historical novel, “Eternal,” coming on March 23. Also look for Francesca’s debut novel, “Ghosts of Harvard,” on sale now.