Starlight.

This has been a rough month. I don't mind so much, I'm used to rough months. But it bothers me when the more abrasive side of life brushes up against my kids, and it has done so with a vengeance this month.
Not so long ago we lost a pretty special family pet, and the kids fell apart. Last month we had one of my wife's relatives pass away. She was a woman with respiratory problems, incurable, and it was a long time coming. Janet had helped this woman bring home a rabbit that had been abandoned because it too had respiratory problems...incurable. The kids loved visiting the rabbit, and this woman's wish was for us to take the rabbit, which we did.
My oldest daughter in particular really took to the rabbit, and bonded with it.
Then at the beginning of this month, we found out that we are losing our home back to it's original owner and have to move. This means the kids will be losing all that they know in the way of community outside of the family in a few days from now.
We started packing, which raised a lot of dust, which in turn aggravated the rabbit's condition.
Long story short, the rabbit only lived about 2 more weeks and it died too.
My oldest girl was absolutely devastated.
I took the kids out to a local hillside the night after burying the rabbit and we laid on the ground and looked at the stars and talked about the rabbit.
I rambled on about starlight, about how the light we're seeing left most of the stars we see millions of years ago, and that what we're really seeing up there isn't happening anymore. I told them that light is made up of little photons, and that when we see light, it's actually these little photons that have travelled for millions of years hitting our eyes. I told them that this makes us a part of every star in the sky, and it makes every star in the sky a part of us, and following along on that train of thought, every one of us is a part of one another, whether animal, mineral, vegetable or light, living or dead.
I talked about eternity and infinity and Gods and afterlives and tried to put a positive spin on it, and the kids were buying it and feeling better. In the back of my mind though I was pissed at the universe, pissed at life, pissed at everything, and I felt the rage that every parent feels whenever their kids feel pain.
Then my daughter said something to me about light.
"Dad, did you know that moths aren't actually attracted to light? They're attracted to pitch black, and the blackest point is always right behind a light."
Every once in a while you hear something that gives you a complete paradigm shift in the blink of an eye, a little lightning bolt of enlightenment that shakes your very foundations, and for me this was one of those moments. It occurred to me that if the darkest point is right behind the light, it follows that the brightest light is right behind the darkness. Smart kid.