The Beatles’ “Mr. Moonlight” has been stuck in my head for days, so it wasn’t surprising to see the full moon Saturday evening as I drove east, and the clouds parted briefly to reveal it. The song fits with the melancholy I’ve felt lately – induced, in part, by the continuing deaths of people from my youth.
We’ve reached that time of life, the baby boomers.
But today, when I opened the front door to grab the newspaper, I was caught off-guard by Mr. Moonlight staring me in the face above pink clouds in the early morning light.
That gave things a little perspective. The moon sets on some, the sun rises on others, and life goes on.
Yes, another of Mother’s old friends was in the obituaries again this morning, but yesterday we celebrated little Luke’s first birthday.
We also celebrated my friend Caran’s mother’s life, instead of mourning her passing from it. Alzheimer’s had really already taken her a while back, so the family focused on the Carolyn Curry who was a force to be reckoned with in her day, and people came in droves to celebrate her.
Which helped remind me to celebrate each day, even if I’m tired or crabby or overwrought with to-dos.
Mother’s doing well, the grandkids are divine, my kids are healthy and Marie-Noelle arrives Friday night for a visit! Thursday night, Cathy, Mother and I get to see Willie Nelson at Robinson Auditorium. Life is good, if hectic and crazy.