When Aly was very young, she had her own names for the moon. If the moon appeared in any crescent phase, she called it “Crisp Moon.” Anywhere near full, she called it “My Moon.”
She celebrated her birthday recently. She’s still working a summer job down south, so we celebrated the day without her here on the homestead, under the full moon.
Her Uncle David and Aunt Anke joined us for a beach fire dinner and birthday cake. As we sat there, the full moon rose over the Coast Range. We recited the lullabye we used to share with Aly on such nights:
I see the moon
The moon sees me.
God Bless the moon,
And God Bless me.
We didn’t know exactly how Aly would be marking her birthday that night, but we took comfort in knowing that this same moon—Aly’s “My Moon”—saw her, too.