Last night, I made an attempt to photograph the moon. Unfortunately, I currently lack the know how to properly capture the beautiful image. That all may change — with a little research and practice. Hopefully, I already have the equipment needed to take on the task.
To be continued…
Lately, it’s been all too stressful in our house. Mostly, it’s my doing. I’ve been feeling like my life has been wildly out of control when, in reality, it’s just been really busy and a little disorganized as we transition from Summer into Fall.
A little self-examination leads to tears when I acknowledge the primary reason for my constant complaint.
I’m scared. I’ve just not wanted to admit it. Instead, I complain of how BoBo is always watching TV, eating every morsel of food in the house, and leaving just enough on the countertop to let me know what I’ve missed.
The reality is, he’s been making a conscious effort to be home more. He’s loaded and unloaded the dishwasher without asking, cared for the dog during the day, and done little odds and ends here and there. And although there are many oversights of his, such as leaving wet towels on the hardwood floor in his bedroom, these actions do not warrant the level of complaint that I have dished out these past few weeks.
I hate seeing him stagnant and waiting for his call and, therefore, without any movement towards his future. And yet knowing that his ship date is eminent brings me much stress. The government has all the power to decide these men and women’s future: who, what [job], where [stationed and deployed], when [they start, deploy, end]. Why? I ask. I am still his mother, yet I am left helpless in the matter.
I think back to 1st grade, when he was being bullied repeatedly by another boy. I intervened and action was taken. But my little boy now towers over me and no longer am I able to come to his defense.
I am scared of the unknown, afraid of how much I’m going to miss him, and petrified of not being able to KNOW that his is alive and well. Furthermore, I am worried about how devastated young YaYa will be to see him go.
This waiting feels wildly out of control. I just want to know that everything will be right…for everyone. At a minimum, I want to know what’s next (his assigned career, ship date, etc) so that I can start preparing mentally and emotionally.
Tonight officially marks the start of Fall. With the harvest moon still making its climb, we hopped in our vehicle and drove up to take in the loveliness of the night. The moon, the hills, and the city lights are all so beautiful. As is the man who took me on this adventure, then put up with my having to take the ride down the winding road with my eyes closed and icy cold air blowing in my face.
Taper. It’s maddening. It makes you do crazy things…like eat an entire bag of kettle corn in one sitting, wait until midnight to start taking pictures obsessively, and purchase another pair of Vibrams.
Technically, it’s all Donald’s fault. He wrote this awesome review of Vibram’s running-specific footwear called the Bikila. Months ago, I wrote off this particular Vibram based on looks. Ttranslation: the color schemes were not in affinity with my world.
Well check out the latest color scheme.
Not only is the newest color scheme in affinity with my world, it’s matchy-matchy with the Boston Marathon’s world.
And my feet? Well…
Last night, I spent about 30 minutes star gazing — or moon gazing rather. During this time, the moon playfully popped in and out from behind the clouds as if playing a game of peek-a-boo with me.
Our time together, though limited, was different somehow: special. I came away feeling a much needed calmness. And although I wished we could spent more time, the moon let me know in his own way that he was needed elsewhere. Perhaps he and cow were meeting up for another jumping session. It mattered not. He bid me farewell, tucked in behind the clouds, and disappeared.
Good Night Moon…and Thank You!