Mourning Moon

Mourning Moon

autumn’s close

winter’s beginning

a luminous full moon

ample with assertion

it is the time of fruition

the perfect time to let go

of all that weighs on you

&

value the fertility of gratitude

autumn’s goodbye

winter’s introduction

a radiant abundant moon

the mourning moon

it rises for your serenity

**

On this day, one year ago, it was the last time I’d see my father alive. I went to his house after work with my niece and had a quiet cup of tea with my step-mom. We almost hadn’t gone as she told us he wasn’t doing so well during the daytime but changed her mind. I was always glad she did otherwise I’d never have gotten to say one last I love you.  Chelsey and I left the apartment and had a somber dinner together before we both went home and fell into our beds, feeling the deepest weight of sadness.

At the time, my cellphone was on 24/7 and that night before I went to bed I changed my ringtone to something that would be loud enough to jar me out of my sleep if it could even find me: Billy Idol’s ‘Dancing With Myself’.  I had just succumbed to a light sleep before Billy was wrestling me from it well into the early hours of November 27th. The news I feared would come any minute. He was gone.

One year today was the last time I saw my Dad alive. It has been a year of confusion and heartbreak and bereavement but in all of that I have held tight to the happiness he brought to my 40 odd years on this planet. That kept me going, the good memories of which there are many. I still miss him, with every fiber of my being. I wish I could call him up, have him yell at me, bark at me, anything: just one more time.

Today, one year later to the day of the last time I saw my Dad breathing, there will be a full moon. Not just an ordinary full moon but one called the mourning moon. I found peace in this coincidence: that one full year later a moon would hang brilliantly overhead as a symbol of culminations, commencements, and letting go. It is to be thought of like this: imagine it to be illuminating the darkest moments of your past year so you can visit them one last time before turning away from them. This can apply to so much of the past year for me but it is certain that I will likely never turn completely away from the loss of my father.

I took a vacation day for tomorrow. I don’t know what I will do on the 1^st anniversary of his passing but the idea is to be off the grid, move through the day on my own, free of chatter and responsibility, so I can breathe.

I miss you, Dad.

In propinquity,

Nic