“Time can’t ever make up for the light we miss; once the light is gone, it’s gone… but the new moon starts it all over again.” Mama said to me as we stood between the houses and watched how much light covered the neighborhood and beyond. We’d both seen the moon before, but hadn’t watched it together since I was younger.
“Sometimes I forget to look up because I’m always trying to get through my days…” I shared with my Mama. I never wanted her to know that I don’t look up.
She’d raised me to always keep my head up, no matter what… but looking ahead of me takes precedent too often these days. I can’t make up for all the light I miss, and when I’m not trying to just “make it” through my days, I look up only to catch the light of day in quick glances.
“Son, you know better than that. If you want your days to count, look up while you’re living, no matter the hour of the day.” She shared with me the night before she went back home and while we watched the moon. With a vengeance, began to look up more.
Six weeks later, a storm hit the city and knocked out power across several counties. Between the wind and rain, tree branches blanketed the front and back yards across my neighborhood. In my own backyard, the large, old tree with limbs that stretched over two backyards away fell on my garage but didn’t crash through the roof. It barely scratched anything, but it did dent the gutter on the structure’s northern side. Though I was able to get my auto out later that day, I realized that I had looked up at the sky just the night before the tree fell. I could see the moon shining through the branches and making its maze stretching from the back porch to the back fence at the westernmost edge of the property.
Look up and don’t miss the light, Son!
BEING 40 SOMETHING 