A Child's Moon
When I was a little girl, probably starting around the age of two and a half, I believed in the man in the moon. And when my family would pile into our maroon station wagon for extended car rides, which to me could include a trip as short as thirty minutes, I thought the moon was traveling with me.
Sitting in the back seat or laying where mom would load the groceries in the "way back" of the car, I would stare out the window and find my companion in the sky. It looked like my moon was racing across the heavens to keep up with me.
My moon watched out for me... always there, a constant in a world of inconsistency. A beacon in the night sky, it would ride alongside me and settle above my room while I slept. No matter the new apartment, the new state, or my mom's new live in boyfriend, my moon came with me on every misadventure. As a small child and a little girl, the world I existed in moved and changed so fast, but my moon was the calmness of the night and the stillness in my heart. In a childhood filled with shadows, my moon was a bit of light in the darkness.
Funny how I believed it to be my moon, perhaps needing it to be my moon. Now, as an adult, I know the moon is not mine. I know it does not move in proximity to me. I know it is not some guardian of my travels, lending radiance to the seasons of gloom in my life.
But I look out my open car window on this warm summer night, and when the deep green of the grass and trees rush by me, I see the moon steady by my side... and once again, it is my moon.
Only now I know it is shared by us all. May you find the constant in your life. Or you can use mine, and it will be our moon.