Mar. 17, 2003 ~ Moonbeams
The moon was full, as I pulled into the driveway tonight, weary from work and listening to the president's speech on my way home. I stopped between the twin pines and stared at the moon, remembering a time when a certain young man's favorite story was "Good Night Moon." A routine followed the closing of the book's covers each night, as Small Boy, his Dad and I slowly went through the drill. "Good night, moon. Good night, stars. Good night, bed. Good night, pillow. Good night, Mick Mouse. Good night, small boy." With those words, the light went out, the covers were pulled up around little ears, and, safe and warm, he drifted off into his dreams.
I did mental arithmetic tonight, and realized it would be 6:00 AM in a faraway country. Was that same moon shining there, as bright and full and golden as in the Texas sky? Would Soldier Boy be looking upward, memories calling, whispering, "Good Night, Moon. Good night, stars. Good night, bed." Most likely not. Those thoughts are for mommies and daddies.
Wherever you are now, small boy, we wish you peace, and safety, and strength. And courage, you'll need plenty of that, too. More than anything else, we wish... you were with us here now.
Good night, Soldier Boy. We love you.
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