A Shared Moon

”Buzzzzz”, the familiar sound comes from the cell phone on the night stand for what seems like the tenth time. I roll over quickly trying to silence the phone through my squinted sleepy eyes. 

“Mommy!”

I hear the ever so excited voice that I have heard in half hour intervals all night long. I look at the time on my phone, 3:03 am. I decide I might as well get up this time, I am not getting much sleep anyways. My daughter, Natalee is so excited, which is why she has not gotten much sleep tonight either.

As I get up, the patient curly haired girl standing in my door way comes running to greet me at the edge of my bed. She slings her warm arms around my neck and as much as I want to just crawl back in bed with her attached to me and snuggle up, I stand up with Natalee still in my arms.

She squeals with delight.

This calm before the day begins is what I live for especially today. We both know what the end of the day brings for us. Her tired face stares right into what feels like my soul. We’ve been doing this routine now for quite some time but it never gets easier.

I set Natalee down on the stool and began brewing my coffee, and making her some breakfast. I cook her favorites, a pancake shaped like a snowman and scrambled eggs. 

“Can I pour the syrup”, a question she ask because she knows we disagree on the amount of syrup she wants to use.

I smile sleepily at her and nod. She beams from ear to ear and I catch my breath as I take in her smile, my heart physically starts to ache. 

As soon as Natalee finishes her breakfast, here comes the talking, almost as if the eggs gave her mouth the energy it was missing. I have come to enjoy our talks and her questions. I love that she is so inquisitive and the way her mind works for a child is amazing.

I stand there listening, clinging on to every word she speaks, breathing in the smell of her hair, watching how her dimple forms on her cheek with every word she says. She is the kind of kid that not only speaks with her voice but with her eyes as well. We sit there in that kitchen with the dim light from the stove being the only light on in the house for what seemed like hours. 

Time stood still.

When I checked the clock on the oven it read 3:43. We needed to start getting ready and be out the door in an hour. I procrastinated a little longer, and Natalee moved on to drawing pictures for our fridge collection. She cheerfully runs to the fridge to find space to hang the pictures she drew. As she hangs them she explains them to me.

I notice one is ripped in half and I ask her what that one is. She explains,

“It is half the moon and me, Mommy”, in her best you really didn’t know that tone.

I then ask where the other half is as she runs back to the table to grab it. She then shows me the other half of the picture which is the other half of the moon and a figure of a women.

I ask her, “Who is that then?”

Unprepared for the answer she says in the same tone,

“It’s you Mommy!”

She continues explaining,

“I’m going to take this half with me so I know your close and you have that half on the fridge so you know I’m close.”

As I hold back tears, I swoop her up in my arms and think to myself how sweet and perfect this little girl is. Knowing it is too early in our day to be sad, I hold her until the tears crawl back into the ducts they came from. I am sad to the core of my being and I know she has a space inside her that’s sad also but it’s her excitement that reminds me to help her hold on to that emotion over the sadness. 

My body feels weak, and my stomach has a pit that hasn’t left since we finalized the plans a month ago. We start our normal routine of getting ready for the day, just hours earlier than normal. I remind myself we’ve made plenty of time this morning so I do not need to rush her.

I simply just take in every moment for what it is this morning. I watch as she pulls her pajama shirt over her head. It gets stuck and she starts to flail about, I reach over and pull it up just over her eyes.

“Now it is your crown instead.” I say.

She then prances through her room like a princess. After she feels like her princess duties are complete she proceeds to take off her pajama shirt made into a crown and pull her favorite t-shirt on. My mind wanders back to last night when I was feeling frustrated because she wanted THAT shirt for today.

I spent more time crying in the pile of dirty clothes in the laundry room than it took to me to actually find the shirt. I made sure to stay up just long enough to pull it out of the dryer so she had it for this morning.

She then pulls off her pajama bottoms and wiggles her way into her blue jean overalls. My mind takes note that they fit her perfectly now, and I start to feel that familiar burning behind my eyeballs as I think of how much she will grow and change in the next two months.

She pulls on her socks beaming from ear to ear as she looks down at my feet to double check I have my matching socks on. No words are spoken as she was just making a mental note. 

 Moving into the bathroom she groans a little as getting her hair done is her least favorite part of getting ready. I smirk as I think of all the tears and time we’ve spent in this bathroom battling the hair battle. Her hair is a perfect mix between her fathers and mine. Beautiful and stubborn.

 I reach in the drawer and grab out the spray bottle. Sneakily I grab the second one I placed in the drawer last night for this occasion. I hand her the spray bottle. 

Natalee tilts her head to the side looking at me quizzically. I jump back, aim and squirt her with the water, a light mist right to the face. She looks stunned, and then I see her eyes go from puzzled to oh it is on as she aims for me. I let her get one good shot in before I take off down the long hallway.

I feel my feet slipping on the hard wood floor as I slide around the corner into the kitchen. I ducted down below the cupboard. I know she is not far behind me. I listen for her footsteps and as they get louder they become slower until I no longer hear any footsteps at all. I assume she is proceeding with caution because she knows I will jump out from anywhere.

 This game is one of our favorites. We like to call it water tag, although it doesn’t really have many rules or regulations. As I hide, I feel giddy and excitement, much like I felt when I was a child playing hide and seek. Next thing I know I feel the cool blast of water from above me. She climbed on the stool at the island and did a sneak attack. I quickly aim but she is gone too fast. We spend the next ten minutes playing water tag and laughing together.

By the time both of our water bottles are near empty I suggest we use the rest for her hair. She stands in front of the mirror and I feel her eyes on me as I comb through her hair. I peer back at her in the mirror as I ask her,

“What style for the princess today.”

She requests two braids and I get started on my task. I tell her she looks so beautiful today. Normally she would tell me I look beautiful but today she turned around and grabbed me with all her might. Reaching around me as she grips strongly. From the intensity of her hug alone I know what her face will reveal.

Natalee is feeling sad, something I never want her to feel. I take a moment and we silently hug before I squat down and look her in her eyes. She doesn’t speak for a minute and then she says,

“Mommy I don’t want to go anymore.”

Her face is now turned into a slip and slide of tears and as her mother I want to just say ok, you don’t have to go anywhere. Instead I choose the more mature and responsible route and begin highlighting all the fun things she’s going to experience. Her breathing slows down. I see through the wetness around her eyes that the excitement is coming back into view for her.

Phew, we got through that one.

We walk out of the bathroom hand in hand. We make a quick stop into my bedroom where I grab a jacket. I check the clock on my phone and I am shocked to see it’s only 4:40. Time was on our side today.

 I come around the corner to the living room and reality then smacks me in my face. There stands my beautiful, curious six-year-old. Beside her is her purple suitcase. I feel like I could just bawl standing there, but I know that the moment I do, I may not recover enough to get us out of the door.

After all she did not ask for this life or the hectic schedule of co-parenting. My mind then goes back to the day my ex-husband came to our house to inform us that he was moving. Natalee was naturally excited because she was hoping for her own room at Daddy’s new house.

He then explained he was moving out of state.

California to be exact. 2131 miles away to be exact.

One day and 5 hours of nonstop driving away to be exact.

I am thankful that Natalee was only 3 then, because I do not think it fully set in for her. Many court dates later and here we are co-parenting miles away. He gets her two months in the summer and every other Christmas break.

I didn’t realize I got lost in my thoughts until I feel the softness of Natalee’s hand grabbing mine. I look down at her and plaster a smile on my face and ask,

“Ready to roll.”

And she replies,

“on our belly’s.”

I smile, this is an inside joke from a while ago when she really thought that is what I meant by saying let’s roll. We laugh as I grab her suitcase, she grabs her backpack. Both of us step on the porch and simultaneously stop suddenly.

Our eyes had caught the color and intensity of the moon and we’re in awe! It seemed as though if we reached up high enough we could touch it. 

“Wow that’s so beautiful Mom.”

Natalee almost whispers. I quietly respond,

“Yes it is.”

We find ourselves standing on the porch in the chilly early morning air falling in love with the view of the moon once more. It was a moment that I know we both will remember for these next two months. It seemed as though that moon knew what today was and what the moon means to us.

I could stay in this moment forever, however time is now starting to catch up with us as we hear the familiar annoying sound coming from the alarm on my phone.

As if it broke the spell the moon had on us both we get in the car and fasten our seatbelts. I glance through the fingerprints on the rear-view mirror to see Natalee once again gazing at the moon. I set the GPS for the airport and back out of the driveway. We chat and sing some of our favorite songs. With smiles on our faces I can feel the inevitable goodbye lurking in the air all around us. 

We park on the top floor of the parking garage at the airport in our favorite spot. Natalee unbuckles her seatbelt and climbs to the front seat. I push my seat back and let her climb onto my lap.

“We made it just in time Mommy!”

Natalee exclaims happily. As we sit there staring off into the darkness I again take in every single second. From the way her little hand fits into mine, to how her lips curve a certain way when she is thinking about what I said. The ever so slight way her eyebrow furrows when her mind is forming a question. I breath in every bit of that little girl because I know once the sunrises we will be going exactly 61 sunrises apart. 

This has become our thing we do to make the time seemingly past a little quicker while she is away. I catch Natalee let out a big yawn, which causes me to yawn as well. I think for a split second about how she woke me every 30 minutes last night asking if I was sure the sun wasn’t coming up yet. She was anxious and not fully understanding how time works but did not want to miss our time together. 

We sat there in that car and chatted away about everything she could think of. All of the sudden as if she knew what time it was she squealed excitedly. 

“Here it comes!”

She squeezed my hand hard as we finally see the first, very small glint of the sunrise shine. Magically piece by piece the sun lit up the entire skyline. Natalee beamed which in return made me beam.

Our early morning had turned out perfectly. We sat there in amazement as we have each year around this time watching our sunrise together. Natalee and I will share the sunrises and the glowing of the moon on a calm night together any chance we can. I feel a sense of calm when doing these with her and when we are apart it is away we can connect to each other.

I checked the time and it was now 6:30. Natalee’s Dad was meeting us at the airport. I squeeze her tighter than I normally do before I opened the car door for us both to exit. 

We grab her suitcase and bag and head to the elevator. Natalee is unusually quiet. She knows how this process goes and it isn’t always easy. I can’t imagine being her age and having to navigate those kinds of emotions.

Once the elevator doors open we both head to the familiar meeting spot. I grab her back pack from her as we’re about to go around the corner because I know as soon as she spots him she’ll become a track star. We greet each other with a nod.

I list the typical reminders of her allergies and fears. I hand him her insurance card and inhaler.

“Natalee tell Mommy bye,” he says eagerly.

I can tell that he’s uncomfortable and wants to leave. I feel my face getting hot with anger at him rushing me and Natalee to say goodbye. I bend down on my knees and come face to face with my beautiful, bright eyed princess. I tell her I love her so much. We exchange so many hugs and kisses that I lose count. I dab her tears from cheeks.

 He quickly gathers her things, no regard for her sadness. Takes her hand in his as they head towards the security terminal. 

I stand froze in place until I can no longer see a speck of her pink jacket. My legs feel so heavy, tears freely steam down my face as I make my way back to the parking garage elevators. I make it to my car and sit in my own silence.

I glance back through the rear-view mirror and a twinge of ache pulsates through my body as I see the empty backseat. I head to work because I know I have to continue on as normal as I can. I get through the work day on auto pilot.

It’s now 10 o’clock at night and I haven’t heard from Natalee yet so I send a text. I received no response. My heart started to race and I almost let my mind wander to the terrible what ifs. I rationally reminded myself he was never good with his phone.

Then I just let myself feel all those feelings. I must’ve been drained from the day and the emotions that I cried myself right into a deep sleep. 

I was startled awake by the ringing of my phone. I checked the clock on my nightstand that read 1:00 am. I quickly answered thinking Natalee’s Dad would be on the other end of the phone. Instead it was the sweetest voice that my ears have ever heard.

“Mommy?” She whispered.

Quietly I responded back,

“Hi Natalee!”

To which she responded,

“ I see the moon.”

I quickly jumped out of bed and rushed to my window and found the moon. Then I respond quietly.

“And the moon sees me.”

She remembered on her own this year and my heart melted as she whispered,

 “I love you goodnight Mommy.”

As I woke up the next morning the sun beaming on my face through my window I yelled out, “Only 60 more mornings with you my friend!”