Daddy, Moon gone!

My son was two
and loved to walk with Dad,
to the fish and chip shop,
where he often got sweets.

Mum requested we pick up dinner
and we walked in the early evening,
the three blocks to the shop.

Walking down a gravel path,
hand in hand,
with trees on the West,
wee Jack looked up and said,
“Daddy! Moon!”

The joy in his young eyes!
He loved the moon
and our nightly tradition of standing outside at his bedtime,
to look up at the moon and stars,
as I sung “Twinkle Little Star” to him.

“Moon, Daddy! Moon!”

So much happiness,
at something we have forgotten to love,
forgotten to view with wonder.

As we walked along,
he sang the Moon’s praises,
in a way only a two year old could.

that huge moon in a light blue sky,

As we had walked along,
it hide itself behind a tree.

My sweet boy could not be comforted,
a few steps later,
it reappeared in all of its brilliance.
“Moon back, Daddy!”

A sterile note from Monsieur Piaget,
could note that my son was learning of “object permanence” –
something Piaget considered to be among a child’s greatest achievements,
but I prefer to imagine that on that magic evening,
my son taught me that for those things over which we have no experience,
and which we cannot extrapolate from what we know,
we are in the same position as my wee boy was that evening.

As he and I walked along,
I considered that death may be no more significant
than the momentary disappearance of the moon behind those trees.

Gerald Lee Jordan
Diamond Harbour NZ
11 March 2013