My son was in the back of the car last night. It was bitterly cold and the sky was, at last, clear. Suddenly he cried “Moon, Daddy – look. Moon!”
His excitement was almost physical. Every muscle at his tiny command was thrust into the task of forming that beautiful word.
The thought passed through my head: I would be that excited if these bills suddenly dissolved, if these insurance creeps would stop shirking and settle up, if these builders would stop breaking my home and build it instead, if…
It was a little later in the list that I felt old and tired and very far from home.
And so I promise to listen to my son and seek his counsel in all things. I will forget the tiny demands of this stumbling world and re-acquaint myself with the moon. We used to be such good friends, you see.
