Tuesday, August 21, 2012

one of the "Best of the Memoir Writing Conference 2012"





Eclipse
By

Peggy Fagan

Peggy Fagan is a writer, chef, gardener, & pie baker extraordinaire. She writes, cooks, gardens & bakes in Upper Bucks County, PA with her sweetheart, Gregory & their 2 dogs, Gus & Grady.



When I was a child I used to talk to the moon.  Mr Moon, I called him. It was always on those late rides home from family gatherings. I'd sit in the back seat and look at the moon through the car window and carry on long rambling conversations. I would tell Mr. Moon about my day, who I saw, what we did, what we ate. I felt safe. I felt like Mr Moon would protect me. Between the moon glow and the sound of my parent's murmured conversation in the front seat, I would fall asleep and awake the next morning with a vague memory of Dad carrying me to bed and Mom tucking me in. I always loved the moon, and I still marvel at the bright-as-day beauty of a full moon night.
     Many years ago, sitting on a bench outside of a cafe in Lucerne, Switzerland, I gazed at the full moon shining over the Alps surrounding the lake and told my traveling companion of my childhood chats with Mr Moon. As we sat sipping hot cocoa, a shadow appeared and to our amazement and delight we witnessed a total eclipse. We sat for hours immersed in this once in a lifetime event made all the more magical by it's unexpected occurrence and our beautiful surroundings.
     Tonight, my alarm woke me at 1am, and I got up (early, even for me!), and made some hot cocoa. The wind was blowing and my chimes were ringing like so many church bells this Winter Solstice morning. I could see the beginnings of the eclipse through the bathroom skylight. I shed my robe and scampered out into the frigid night to the hot tub. There I sat watching as the Earth’s shadow covered my beloved Mr Moon. The water vapor rising from the tub caused the moon's glow to shine and shimmer as the shadow crept across it’s surface. I sang a bit and talked to the stars as they peeped out brighter as the moonlight faded. I thought of Winter Solstice bonfires, and the scraps of paper we would throw in to the flames, our troubles to burn away. I asked Mr Moon if I could throw my troubles behind the shadow to disappear and worry me no more. As I sat and pondered what to toss up to the moon I realized that my troubles are few. I have a home with a warm stove was awaiting me, my sweet love safe under the covers, my health is good, I have a job I enjoy (for the most part), I have friends I love and family too. So instead of my troubles to hide, I sent my hopes to shine down with the returning light of the glorious moon: hopes for peace, an end to strife and pain, for love to fill the hearts of mankind, for safe passage for all of those in harm's way. Those are the wishes I sent up to Mr. Moon, a tall order to be sure. But there is magic in the world, I have seen it and felt it and so I will choose to believe.


Copyright 2012© Peggy Fagan



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