Yes, I know it was meteor, a huge hunk of rock burning up while it entered the atmosphere, and not a shooting star.

But it reminded me of a fond memory.

My Uncle Don was a top corrosion engineer for Chevron. Science was his life.

After he retired, he took up photography and endless e-mailing as his hobbies.

Uncle Don was my mentor. School, work, family or friends, he always knew the answer to my question.

One of his favorite phrases was "lets look at our options."

Being the ever-curious scientist, Uncle Don subscribed to NASA's newsletter, and would forward things he found interesting on to me.

I was in high school at the time, and thought shuttle launches and stargazing were way less important than my social life.

But one of his e-mails my junior year had the subject "Have a date for Friday?"

I opened it, and it was a NASA newsletter explaining a very visible meteor shower expected for that Friday night.

I was in the middle of our high school musical, and I knew we had a cast party Friday night, so the e-mail got lost in the shuffle of dance steps and backstage drama.

Friday rolled around, and at the party I asked my good friend Steve to drive me home.

As we left the party, we saw the meteor shower through the windshield.

I remember the car slowing down and both of us staring, mouths open but silent, at the show. There must have been a half-dozen meteors falling from the sky with beautiful bright white tails.

Looking back, I must have subconsciously remembered Uncle Don's e-mail, because it definitely was a date-worthy moment.

Steve dropped me off at home, and we talked about the meteors for a few days after. It was something special.

I think it was then that I realized that maybe my uncle wasn't so out of touch, and knew what he was talking about.

Unfortunately, I only had until my junior year of college to appreciate his knowledge and sense of humor. He passed after battling cancer in November 2005.

As I drove home last night, I thought about Uncle Don and how I wish I had read more of his e-mails more closely. He always was thinking of me, whether I realized it or not.

I'm always happy to be reminded of memories of him.