When I was a girl my father and I used to have “date” nights. He would take time every now and then to spend time with just me. Many times we would simply take a walk at night to star gaze and dream together about the future. I would tell him about the six grandkids I would provide for him and he would tell me about being a boy and the kinds of games he used to play or jobs he had. Many times, when the moon was full, we would set on our front porch with our legs dangling and argue over just exactly who the moon belonged to. I would tell him that when I was born God and given it to me and he would tell me that it was still his and I wouldn’t get it until he said so. We would go on like this until he eventually caved and would say, “Yes, yes … you can have it, I gladly hand it over to my little girl.”
Needless to say as a grown woman now I understand the gift my father was really giving me. He may not have been able to give me all the latest and greatest toys, clothes or gadgets but he gave me the moon. He instilled within me a wanderlust for the truly big things in life. As it turns out I didn’t give my father six or even one grandchild. The future had other plans for me I suppose. I don’t think he minds so much because all I have to do is call him when the moon is full and remind him about our night time excursions. He falls right back into the rhythm of the conversation and the argument starts all over again.
It’s because of these memories that I truly cherish the moon. I can set and stare at it endlessly. If I had the opportunity to travel there, I would go in a moments notice. It’s mysterious, calming, creepy, comforting and always a dream. Tonight is the so called, “Super” moon, when the moon is closest to the earth during it’s annual trek. I most certainly feel it’s effect. I’m feeling anxious and homesick but the moon soothes my troubles and makes everything just a bit easier. I’m so thankful for those special moments with my father. Because of them I inherited the moon.