As I was driving home from the hospital yesterday, I was listening to the news and the pundit or whoever was speaking announced it was a harvest moon and commanded her listeners to go outside. I think her exact words were , “Be sure to go outside and look at the moon. You don’t want to miss that, folks!” Well that stung. It made me realize that the moon was practically dripping out of the sky and onto the roof of my car and I hadn’t even noticed it. This then brought home the fact that the ENTIRE month of September went by and I barely noticed.
So I called Jim and Ana tonight and made them go outside and look at the moon at the same exact time Emily and I were looking at it. I had a visions of this poetic silence as the four of us gazed up at the sky, but the reality wasn’t quite so poetic. You can’t really see the moon from our house early in the evening (something Ana and I learned during her fourth grade moon studies) and Ana was bored, and Emily ran off chasing a moth or something.
Now Ana is (hopefully) coming home tomorrow and we can (hopefully) look at what’s left of the harvest moon together. Damn, but I took everything for granted before the nonexistent September of 2012.
So, I’m not sure where I’m going with this but I guess I just want to tell you to grab all your family members, go outside and look at the harvest moon. Because that’s really what’s important.
I will also admit that I’m a little scared of what life will be like over the next few weeks, And what will happen after this brief reprieve. Awful thoughts keep invading. The fear is incredible. It changes the way I see everything, so that even the most inconsequential things are props on the set of a tragedy (I found a scribbled song that Ana wrote right before she left for Montreal today, all crumpled up and half buried under stuff in her room. It was something silly, but I couldn’t stop reading it over and over again.)
So what I am looking forward to the most are the small moments that we sort of weave around ourselves – Jim, Ana, Emily and I. The stuff that makes us a family and…whole. And I’m also desperately afraid that these could be the last moments, even though the doctors seem optimistic, and Ana is feeling better, and all stories don’t have to end like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy. Right?