I can’t sleep. I worked the late shift again, my usual schedule these days at the restaurant, so I’m not too surprised. Trying to sleep before one in the morning these days is difficult, when I don’t get home til half past 10 at the earliest. One does need to downshift for a bit after work, regardless of the hours. But this time it’s like something is calling to me. I can’t downshift, as I usually can. My beautiful magnesium powder is not working its usual magic tonight. So I give up, and get up.
I come out to my lanai, that place I will miss the most about this house, that place Mike loved most too, and notice how bright the light is. Geez what is that, I wonder in my daze? It’s the moon, I realize, so full and luminous it lights up the sky and the ocean beneath, like a surrogate sun. Literally glaring at me, daring me to be awake and gazing upon it. I go back inside to get my distance glasses from my purse so I can really see it.
Yup. It’s the moon. And the man on the moon, that face, kind of looks like Mike in that moment. I can see him smiling, finding joy in the moment, as he did. Looking down on me from wherever he is. Incandescent and larger than life. That’s him. My full moon guy.
Mike suffered from insomnia. Back then, I had no trouble sleeping and would only hear about it the next day, how peaceful, quiet and beautiful it was out here at three in the morning.
Whether it’s my hormones (sleep has changed for me these past few years, getting older), my late schedule, or all the thoughts spinning about my brain as it anticipates the imminent changes, I just can’t sleep.
And it is beautiful out here. Radiant. I can literally see the moon setting, quickly really if you watch it, over the ocean beneath me. It’s breathtaking. I wish I had spent more sleepless nights with Mike out here when he was alive. But I am glad he found such joy in those moments, for him.
I consider taking a picture, but know my phone camera will not do this moment justice.
I chide myself instead. You should be in bed, sleeping, or at least trying to sleep. But I can’t stop watching the moon. Then a rooster crows. Then another. That’s Hawaii for ya. Geez, guys, it’s only four in the morning, maybe a little after, now. Sun won’t shine til after six, and won’t really peek over our mountain til half past eight. Go back to sleep. But they don’t.
I, on the other hand, have overstayed my welcome. It’s time to sleep…though more than anything I wish for Mike to be here, enjoying this quiet, bedazzling moment with me.
And maybe he is. I just don’t know.