Day After the Full Moon

The full moon was last night and the patio was white with light in the night. Tonight we walked Bo at twilight, when I feel closest to you, and saw the sky light up - the clouds to the west first gold and then pink and all glowing before fading into night.  At twilight we know everything changes quickly, to me it is the most beautiful and light has a roundness and a fullness, right before the dark.  And the first star comes out and I say, "hello, my boy."  To me, you are the first star, which is really Venus,  it is a sweet and poignant point of white in the sky, it is the beauty of night, hope in the dark, and it is you. Our lives are like this now, your dad and mine.  We know that everything will change. We know the night comes. We know, somewhere in us, that the next day comes too.  We know that even though we can't see you, you are there. And you are clear, between the night and day, in the holy moments when the veil is thinned and the bats come out and the fragrance of the earth is strong.  It is your time, it is our time with you. 

Everyday we let go of the sun, the warmth, every year we let go of summer and go into the darker season, and every so often in life we let go of something as wonderful as you, something that will not come back again, that will never be replaced as it was.  That will not hold the same place in us.  And it is terrible.  And everything keeps turning anyway, everything keeps changing.  And I see the first star, I see Venus, and for a small instant, an old ancient part of me knows that  you are there, my boy, that you never left, that we will always have you.  And so I say hello to you, out loud, every night. And I know you hear me.

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