I am in awe of you. We awoke early yesterday to see you in your super, blue and eclipsed state. But you were hiding behind the clouds. We spoke of you at dinner and my sweet little one described in his four-year-old way, how Earth would move and the Sun would stay still, and we would see your light change. But still, last night, you were hiding. And we didn’t get to see you.
So tonight, I write to you, a letter of thanks. Although you hid yesterday, twice, as we tried to look at the wonderment of your light at its brightest, in the past few years, you have been one constant in a stream of tumultuous change.
I look to you when I need a glimpse of my angel in Heaven. You are so close to him, I know, and in a clear, dark night, where your light shines so brightly and you are so round and seemingly glad, I look to you, and feel him. You have brought me comfort on many a lonely night.
When you are at your roundest, and brightest, and I cannot help but look up and notice you, I know my angel, at that very moment, is also thinking of his mommy on Earth. You bring us together, somehow, though he is so far away. You make him closer. Just looking up at you, in your greatness, makes me feel like a little piece of him is still within reach.
So tonight, dear moon, whether it’s cloudy or clear, through a window or in the crisp evening air, I will look to you. Because I know, like my angel, whether I see you or not, you are always there.