It happened very simply. My granddaughter was eighteen months when it started. Our house was full with family for Christmas. Laughter filled every room after dinner. Wrapping paper covered the floors. Santa had done his job well and it was time to relax. I signaled Kaylee to come with me. She gladly obliged, I scooped her up and we went out back to look for the moon. “Mr. Moon, where are you?” we sang. It was a beautiful night in Florida. The palm trees swayed as we stood, cheek to cheek, looking up at the sky. The clouds parted gently and there it was! Mr. Moon had answered our call.
We stayed outside just enjoying the sky. We counted stars and stared at the moon. We looked into each other’s eyes and made funny faces and giggled. We whispered, “I love you,” to each other and giggled some more. I kissed her cheek. She held my face in her hands and smooched me back. I love these moments.
When her sister, Riley, came along we sat on their front porch steps singing, “Mr. Moon, where are you?” The three of us were huddled together as they shared my lap. The sky in North Carolina twinkled with stars. The clouds moved slowly and along came Mr. Moon. There was cheering, clapping, and cheek to cheek smiles. My face was sandwiched between two smiling sweeties. “I love watching Mr. Moon with you,” I told them. They nodded and smiled, still staring at the sky. Their expression of wonder was priceless. We sat and I swayed with them until Mommy called us in for tubby time.
When my grandson came along, the tradition continued. On his last visit here he would come over and grab my finger and say, “Gigi, the moon.” I’d scoop him up and we’d head out on our mission. “Mr. Moon, where are you?” we did our sing-song call. We’d watch the palm trees sway in the breeze. One of my favorite sights is palm trees swaying in the moonlight. You can hear the rustle of their branches. ”Listen,” I told him. His eyes got wide as he watched the palms and listened. Cheek to cheek, we stared at the sky.
One cloudy night he stretched his arms out and pouted, “Oh no! No moon!” The disappointment was so real in his voice. We kept watching just in case the cloud made room for Mr. Moon to pop through. His blonde curls tickled my nose when he leaned on my cheek. I didn’t want that moment to end.
I hope that when I’m long gone they will remember Gigi introducing them to Mr. Moon. I don’t want them to miss that moment when it’s their turn. I hope I’m in Heaven years from now hearing these three little ones, all grown up calling, “Mr. Moon, where are you?” with their grandkids. I’ll try to push a cloud out of the way so the moon is big and bright. Maybe I’ll get a peek at their little wonder-filled faces.
Since I can’t leave them all a trust fund, I’ve left them each a lunar bundle of wonder…Priceless!