For years, I asked a lot of the moon.
Every.single.night I stood outside and searched the night sky for traces of him.
I stood and waited to feel him.
I searched the night for him because I thought my heart would shatter from his absence.
For the first years, many nights, I’d drop to my knees and I’d beg God to bring him back.
I asked Mike to come back to me, which made no sense, but I asked him any way.
I asked him to do what he could not.
I won’t ever forget the way my Soul ached and my heart yearned to know if Mike was somehow “there” with me as I stood alone in the backyard. A yard he once stood in.
I’d wonder if he saw me, somehow.
Was he “there”, somehow.
And, really what did it matter?
I couldn’t see him anyhow…
There is a lump in my throat as I type this because this type of missing changes you. It is an ache born deep within the Soul of you. It changes you to miss someone this profoundly.
And, now, today, as I write to you I’m happy again. There is a new man in my life. A man who can stand outside with me at nighttime. Together, we can look at the moon, if we want to. I can feel him. He is here with me. His presence means so much more to me than he can probably ever really understand.
Still, despite my new found happiness, there is part of me that is forever changed because Mike died; and, this part of me still looks at the moon differently, she always will.