I was in junior high when I first remember seeing the full moon through my bedroom window. I remember being—truly moonstruck—by this vibrant visitor paying me a call as I prepared for bed. I couldn’t bear the thought of closing my eyes and missing the magical moments while the moon’s light was shining into my room. Sleeping won out that night, but from then on I would be on the lookout for my new celestial friend.

During our courtship, my late husband, Larry, sang me a playful German song, Der Mond hängt viel so hoch mein Schatz, denn kannst Du gar nicht küssen. So deshalb sage ich, „Küss mich, küss mich, küss mich! „ “The moon hangs much too high my dear, you can’t possibly kiss it. Therefore, I say, “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.”

The moon would become more than a prop for the mischievous courtship ditty. Shortly after Larry and I were married, he received orders for Korea. It was an unaccompanied tour of duty. Each night we were apart, I’d look for the moon knowing it was shining on him as well.

Thankfully, after only a couple months apart, Larry was able to rent an apartment with another soldier and his wife. I moved to Korea on a tourist visa. Once again, we could gaze at the moon together. However, since Larry was a helicopter pilot, he would frequently be away from home on missions and so over the years our moon would serve as a tender reminder that the same
moon shone upon us both.

After Larry’s death, life’s shreds resisted mending. Yet, the moon faithfully continued her orbit and phases and was a companion to me who remembered—providing a balm for my tattered soul. A constant in a world of change.

In 2005 I began vacationing in Mexico. The warm weather during our cold dark Pacific Northwest winters was certainly a draw, as well as the generous people, culture, music, and food. The unexpected delight was that the relatively clear skies allowed the frequent viewing of the moon! Each visit I would pull up its chart for rising and setting times. Unless it was a darkened new moon, I could be assured that sometime each day I would gaze at my lunar friend. It made me happy.

I just returned from my annual Mexico trip to a couple weeks of snow and clouds. The winter weather didn’t bother me as much as losing the clear skies and view of the moon and stars. Imagine my surprise when I woke up and discovered the heavens had cleared and the Snow Moon of February was shining in my front window! It took me right back to that very first night I saw the full moon from my bedroom window when I was in junior high.

Thankfully, this time, it was morning, and I could gratefully gaze at the moon as it slowly moved below the tree line to eventually set behind the Olympic mountains.

I shared the photo with a dear friend, and she replied, “So Brillant! A good omen!”

Indeed. Moon magic endures.