I Raised My Glass to the Moon

I raised my glass to the moon tonight, and I yelled, “CHEERS, Mama Moon,” because I felt like she gets it, trying to reflect light in the darkness and succeeding and failing in larger and smaller measures depending on the night and her cycle and how much access she has to the sun.

“CHEERS, Mama Moon,” I yelled outside, in my big, baggy, pilled sweatshirt that’s soft and worn, and my black leggings decorated with dog hair, and my booty slippers that aren’t meant for walking on the road but are used that way anyway even though the rain seeps in the sides and soaks the socks I stole from the kids’ laundry basket because I couldn’t find any clean socks of my own.

“CHEERS, Mama Moon,” I said, and I felt like a hippie saying it, at one with the universe, but I also felt self-conscious because I said it without thinking, feeling this strange kinship with a circle in the sky, so I looked around to see if the neighbors heard me so I’d know whether I should apologize — again — for my volume and lack of bra.

“Cheers, Mama Moon,” I said, and I nodded at her and thought of my own waxing and waning, and comings and goings, and ups and downs, and the mysterious pull I have on the seas of my little world, affecting their tides and the ways they erode and repair the world around them.

“Cheers, Mama Moon,” I said, and I wondered if she ever feels alone, like I do, in the black night when the sun is blocked from her view and no one can see her, even though she’s surrounded by stars.

“Cheers, Mama Moon,” I whispered, as I walked up my front stairs, and skipped the bent boards, and paused on the porch, and listened to the children hollering at each other and their screens.

“Cheers, Mama Moon,” I said, and I lifted my glass again. “Shine on.”

 

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Image credit James Barker at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
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ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
8 comments
  1. Astounding. Beautiful.

  2. […] I Raised My Glass to the Moon (Five Kids is a Lot of Kids): Beth Woosley has a lovely, honest, hilarious voice. Some of her article make me laugh, some make me choke up. This is a mix of both. […]

  3. Read a quote this week
    “Don’t worry if you’re making waves just by being yourself.
    The moon does it all the time.”

  4. Beautiful!

  5. The is very lovely.

  6. I had to comment, because, the moon. I have always had a personal affinity for her. My name, Diana, goddess of the moon, I have never embraced the goddess in me because she is excenritc, and my courage fails there. But I have been given a season of life that is calling me to do so, and allowing me space to become, if I will embrace it. Your words here are affirming, and healing, and challenging. Shine on, Mama! Thank you for sharing this and giving me space to be, and become.

  7. Wow… Beth, this is pure poetry! Just started my busy das, Kids off to school, just had a doctors appointment, now sitting in the bus on my was to work (just used the time of the bus ride to so my make up, like I always do) it is 9am and I already got tears in my eyes. Sorry for The writing mistakes… bumpy roads…

  8. This might be one of my most favorites of all your posts. Even the ones that make me laugh uproariously, and that’s a lot of them. In fact I liked it enough to come out of lurkdom for the first time and wave at you in the dark. Dang, you have a gift for writing. Thank you for sharing it with us.

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