Space Man submitted by Jess.

David Bowie had just died and I was devastated.

I don't usually care about famous people, but he was one who I feel played a part and

who I am today.

I cried off and on for a week or so after it happened.

Anyway, it's evening and I'm getting my girls ready for bed.

My youngest daughter was brushing her teeth when she suddenly stopped, looked at me and said,

I died in bed but now I'm a spaceman. English accent, spot on for a three-year-old.

I tried to ask her more but she just said, I'm not going to be silly and went on brushing her teeth.

I have another long story. Back in the early 80s we lived in a tiny two-story house in the suburbs of Chicago on Elm Street, no joke.

I remember this house as the house with the giant elm tree in the front where girls would leave

notes for my brothers and the kind and elderly couple next door would give us things like

bags of apples or a doll here and there. I would get up some

evenings and want water and since I was three I would wake my mom up. She would wait for me at the

bottom of the stairs because I was three and still afraid of navigating the house in the

dark. I would always pause at the top of the stairs because a transparent man in a

plaid shirt would be sitting on the banister that overlooked the stairs.

Looking what I realize now must have been bored or sad.

He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head resting on one hand.

My mom would remind me that she was waiting and I would say I have to say

hi to the man. I would say hi and wave. He would lift his head and give a sad half

hearted wave. Almost as if to say great, another little kid sees me.

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