The moon unraveled like liquid silk on the surface of the lake.
He could have asked anybody to traverse the narrow trails to the rocky shore; mom and the boys would surely have left the circle of flashlights and the puddle of spit toothpaste they were congregated around in the campsite. Especially the boys – to put off bedtime was practically a sport in our family.
But for whatever reason, he didn’t.
He asked me.
I still remember that night - the full moon sitting heavy on the horizon, the lapping of waves against the stones, dad standing next to me in his flannel and jeans and me in my pajamas and a sweatshirt. I was maybe 13.
I’ve likely witnessed thousands of moonrises over Lake Superior, but none that stick in my mind like that August evening with dad on the North Shore.
Mom once told me that wherever we are in the world we all look at the same moon, which is comforting. Unless of course, the person you miss isn’t in this world.
Then, I think the moon feels awful lonely.
“What if it’s the there
and not the here
that I long for?
The wander
and not the wait,
the magic
in the lost feet
stumbling down
the faraway street
and the way the moon
never hangs
quite the same.”
This week is my first time camping in the place I watched the moonrise with my dad since his passing. It feels simultaneously like he may walk off the trail at any moment and like the vast emptiness left by him has been torn a bit wider by the memories this place holds.
And how do you cure a homesickness for someone who isn't under the same moon as you anymore?
I've wondered it a thousand times, through a million tears shed - 'Can you see me dad? Can you hear me? Do you know how much I miss you?'
And I may never know the answer to those questions, but this I do know: the spiritual world is closer than we think, the presence of God encompassing both this world and the heavens.
Wherever we are in this life or the next, we worship under the same God.
“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you. ”
When I stand amazed before the beauty of God's creation, I know my dad is also. When I sing praises, I join with all the saints in the heavens. When I whisper prayers, they rise as a pleasing sacrifice to God in time with the prayers of my father.
I may not be able to go back to that night when I was 13 under the stars, standing in easy companionship with my dad... but I can look forward to this more perfect, more intimate communion with my dad that will never have to end.
And somehow, that makes me feel a little less lonely when I look at the moon.