I am a reader and someone that lives in my head, collecting data, questioning, analyzing, relating it all to myself and the larger community and universe, wondering where and how I fit, how I can make a difference, how it all fits together, etc. This week, I came across a picture and post on Facebook by Dee DiGioia, of Mindful Kindful YOUniversity, that spoke to my soul about my children.
For those who have not read all of my blog posts, the names of my children elicit visions of the sky. Blake, whose name means “dark” and Lucas, whose name means “bringer of light.” Blake was named after his biological father, because I liked the name, and, at the time, I believed I was in love. I became pregnant with Lucas during my husband’s mother’s last two months in her physical form on this earth. Thom and I chose names – Josephine Ruth, which is Thom’s mom’s first name and my grandma’s first name – we’d call her Josi – or Lucas Michael, because Lucas would be the light after the passing of Thom’s mom, and Michael – Thom’s middle name. Lucas’ grandma correctly predicted that Lucas would be our second son.
That is how our moon and sun sons came to be.
This is the passage that Dee posted. It comes from Kelseyleigh Reber’s book, If I Fail:
“In that moment, the moon and the sun shared the sky. For all of eternity, the moon and sun have chased each other around the world. Long into the future, they will continue this chase, merging the days into months into years into centuries, until the day the sun cannot take the separation any longer and she shatters, engulfing the moon and everything else in a burst of light. Most will call it the day of final judgment. The end. To the sun and moon, it will be the beginning.
For the smallest of instants each day, they pause in this chase. They pause and look back at one another, smiling as if sharing a secret. Two lovers that can never exist as one, except in that single, brief instant. Lying there, Persephone smiled too. And as quickly as a smile parts two lips, the two sky wanderers parted ways. The chase was on again. Night gave way to day. That is true love, she had always thought. No force but love can impel one to step willingly into the shadows so that the other may shine.”
This is how I interpret this passage, applying it to my beautiful heavenly lights, the one present here on earth and the one orbiting the earth and showing his presence now, in the form of orbs, in the light of the moon:
For two decades and three years, the moon and the sun walked the earth together. With the exception of that time, the moon and sun have chased each other around the world. Even though they now live in separate dimensions, they will continue this chase, merging days into months into years into centuries, until the day the sun cannot take the separation any longer and he shatters, engulfing the moon and everything in a burst of light. To the sun and moon, this will be a new beginning.
A collection of instants each day, they pause in their chase. They pause and look back at one another, smiling, sharing secrets. Two brothers that exist separately, except in that single brief instant. Embraced by Earth, looking up, their mama smiled too. And as quickly as a smile parts two lips, the two sky wanderers parted ways, their brotherhood unshakeable. The chase was on again. Night gave way to day. That is true love, she thought. No force but love can impel one to step willingly into the shadows so that the other may shine.
I didn’t realize this sun and moon connection until sometime in the last decade. I’ve always thought of my boys as a certain yin and yang, but the symbolism of their relationship only became clear in my mind with time.
I cannot know how hard it has been for my sun child to be seemingly unseen, living behind the clouds, for the years that the glare of his moon brother’s addiction drowned out his rays, his burning wish to scorch addiction and drive it away so that the glow of the moon could return and provide the symbiosis they both craved. I cannot know the pain of losing such a heavenly partner, both before and after his final removal from Earth. I feel the heaviness of it.
We are still sitting in the darkness of grief. Our moon is metaphorically missing, although he reminds me of his presence when he dances on bright moonlit nights in the form of an orb.
It is my hope that my sun comes to see our moon and marvel at his beauty, as he was here, and as he is now. I know he does already. The moon’s brilliance is and was hard to miss. I just hope that peace comes to protect his heart from the physical absence of our moon. The day the moon fell from our sky is a day that will forever bend us. May we bend toward each other and toward love and compassion for all living beings.
In his final living chapter, night did give way to day, intentionally or accidentally, we cannot know, but I do know he went willingly in that moment. I also know our moon would have liked to continue to shine here on Earth, if being whole, or full, was a guarantee, watching our sun shine, and maybe stopping time so they both could shine together for the remainder of their living days, until one would depart, for a short time, called to rest by old age. It is not to be. Perhaps this was our moon’s only way. We will never forget him, and will be reminded of him when the moon is particularly bright. May his glow forever light our hearts and guide us. And may our sun break free from the clouds that addiction hung, and bring the light, as his name implies.
After I read this out loud to Thom, he got in the shower, singing “Here Comes the Sun.” Heartbreakingly sweet.