The Story Behind Pulsar

Eloise Fischer thought up the biggest wish ever while squeezing her brother’s hand tight. Then she opened her eyes and, with a shaky breath, blew out the candles. 

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All six of them. 

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The letter-shaped candles created a smoke ring around the birthday cake covered in strawberry frosting.

ELOISE. 

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One candle for each letter. 

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One candle for each year she could call her own.

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There was much clapping. Shouts of "Happy Birthday” and “We love you” reverberated throughout the room half filled with pink balloons, bright banners, and the constant hum of medical equipment. 

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The hospital allowed only immediate family visitors, so friends and the rest of the clan joined the party virtually on iPads and cellphones and zoom. 

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It was a day dedicated to the little girl who had spent the previous months of her life surrounded by tubes and blinking lights in this place of chemo and IV drips.

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Leukemia was crossing the days off of the calendar much too fast and there weren’t many left for Eloise. 

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Today, however, had been set aside for nothing but cheer. 

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All attendees were determined to hold onto the moment and fill it with joy.

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Presents were excitedly torn open. Cards were read with glee. The cake was thoroughly sampled and declared the yummiest by Eloise herself. 

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Dad recorded the celebration on his cell just like he had done on every memorable occasion. 

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Love was spoken, love was hugged, love was shed in tears, love was laughed, love was teased. 

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Love was all around.

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Eloise glowed; her cheeks rosy pink from the sheer exuberance of being the recipient of so much love. 

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When it was time to say goodbye, Eloise asked her twin brother to linger for a minute, because she had something important to share with him. 

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And when there were just the two of them in the balloon-bright hospital room, Eloise pulled her twin close and whispered her own gift to him.

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“Elliot, thank you, this birthday is the best ever. 

I won’t have more birthdays. Don’t cry, Elliot, it’s okay. 

Don’t tell mom and daddy, but I’ll miss you the most. We’ve always been together.

If I wasn’t born 5 minutes sooner, we’d have the same birthday.”

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At this, they both burst into laughter—his long and robust, hers brief and weak. Then quiet. 

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A sniffle and a sigh later Eloise continued.

“I know we shouldn’t tell birthday wishes, ‘cause they won’t come true but I tell you mine. 

When I’m not here any more … when I’m gone, I want to be in space. In deep space!

I want to touch stardust and make crazy patterns and pretty flowers out of it. Yeah!

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Elliot, do you think stardust tinkles when it falls? 

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I want to dangle my legs off the rings of a huge planet and watch a sunrise from there. No, two suns rising, just like in Star Wars. Remember? I'd pretend that you were sitting next to me.

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Elliot, is there music in space? 

I bet there is. And I bet it’s beautiful.” 

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Eloise yelled out ‘beautiful’ with sincere longing. Then she went on painting the word-canvas of her birthday wish. 

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“I want to play with planets and want to fly by stars. Giant stars! And black holes! 

In a spacesuit. 

Or without. 

Whatever.

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And I want to punch asteroids. I want to break them up so they won’t fall on Earth and kill the dinosaurs again. 

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Elliot, remember, mom said when we look into the telescope we look back in time? 

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I want to look way back when all the stars were babies and I want to see them grow. 

Maybe way back before you and I were born. Yeah!”