and she smiles at the night 

Father,

when I was left 

at two years old-

a man stepped in,

calling me his star.

His twinkle. I didn’t 

know how such a name

could burn a love, keeping

my youth alive when I turned 

a rebellious eye. I want run, hurry.

come on, God, I tell you, let’s go.

but You know how to stop me:

a tree outside my daddy’s house,

peeking white between the branches

hope still-
So, this week I have seen stars. Outside my dad’s house and at the gas station. The one at the gas station looked like it was hanging the moon (best believe I’m going to draw that.)

Anyway, back to my dad. He’s been calling me Twinkle since I was young. It never fails to make me smile & give him a hug. 

It’s funny how only this year, I’ve seen stars. I’ve stood or sat and stared at the sky all, “Mom, what is that?”

“A star.” And I stare and in my head, God, are you serious?! I can’t leave this. You’re showing stars. 

And then I hear Him say: twinklepants.

And then I go draw this for my dad and give this as an earlier Father’s Day, telling him what I saw Monday, but I can’t explain how thankful I am for this nickname,

It makes me feel seen.

Loved.

Twinkly.

Precious.

When God calls the stars by name, I have no doubt Twinklepants is mine.

I love you, Dad.

Thank you.

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