To my daughters..
You may remember finding me, from time to time, staring at the moon. Maybe you never noticed or you did but never wondered why. Or perhaps it is something you now do too and you understand without me having to say a word.
But if explanation is required, it is a simple one. When it is dark and I am in need of a reflective moment or I desire to escape some chaos; internal or external, it is what I like to do.
I have stilled myself countless times before that ancient lunar presence, usually at the kitchen bench, often on our back step, but also from hotel windows, the occasional beach and other assorted locales near and far.
I hope it never ceases to burst fresh awe and wonder inside of me.
Especially when I ponder that it existed long before me and will remain long after you. That it is the same moon that every human on our earth looks upon, the same moon that your great grandmothers and great great grandmothers must have glanced at from time to time too.
When the day has been long and my troubles feel heavy, I sometimes take a moment to pause on our back step, stare at the moon and think about those women. I think about the highlights and heartbreaks that they lived through and in spite of. The big and small legacies that linger in my memories of them and the stories told and re-told.
My girls, never forget the women who have gone before you. They overcame hard things, and came out the other side of incredibly dark times with hope for the future.. my darling girls, please know that you can too, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
My reflective moments before the moon give me, and my current concerns, perspective. I am strengthened by the reminder of the much greater story that I am woven into. I feel at once just to be a tiny speck amongst it all, and yet not alone. That's why your Mama stops to stare at the moon, and perhaps why you do too.