Moonset

There is sunrise and sunset, and then there is moon set. The one I watched this morning from my back porch at around seven, Mountain Time, was magical. I could see no creature between myself and the moon; no houses, no animals, no cars, no highways, no power lines- just me and the moon. There were no other people in my house, my husband is away. Three dogs still slept in their dog beds. The horses were huddled in the barn against the frozen temperature.

And out in front of me was the beautiful moon in a frozen dark blue sky. It was not Good Night, Moon, it was Good Morning Moon.

It has been ten years since my Mom died on this day. More than 3650 days have passed through the hourglass. The earth has made ten revolutions around the sun, millions and millions and millions of miles. The cells inside my brain have regenerated themselves over and over, and still I remember the snowy cold Cape Cod winter night my Mom died as clearly as the bright moon shining on me this morning.

We think of you all the time, Mom. All the time. And your great-grand daughter with the middle name after yours hears stories about you and sees your smiling face on the wall. Your kids have spread out like a fan, and your grand kids and great-grand kids. You got so much done in 64 years. I'm right here behind you, not really totally accepting even now that I have no earthly mother. To mothers everywhere, and to morning moon set.