Two hands on the steering wheel, driving home from Gainesville, I shouted, Yahooooo! I let it rip and giggled and pounded the wheel. Yahooooo. It’s not like me. Once in a while, I’ll be silly with a friend. But by myself. Never. I couldn’t contain my happiness. And anyway, being pleased with myself is something I allow now.
Lights from a car every now and again passed me going south toward town. Who could I tell? The entire drive I wondered who would appreciate what this means to me? Who could share my joy?
I pulled over onto an empty side road with cell phone in hand, anxious to call someone. After ten minutes, fingering the phone’s key pad and staring onto the empty, dark road in front of me, I still didn’t know who I wanted to call, who I could tell.
Restless and searching, I glanced up at the sky, then looked away. I had caught a glimpse of the moon. I turned back and stared at the thin slice of the moon, my companion tonight, with whom I shared my good news.
Perhaps there are times when nature is the best companion we can turn to.
I made up a lullaby when Meena was born and sang it to her every night. I still sing it to her when she needs extra tender loving care after a difficult moment or day. It’s my gift to her, my message to remind her, when I can’t sing her a lullaby, “The moon says, Meena, my dear, I’m here throughout your life. I’ll give you peace and joy my love come see me every day.”