We put the kids to bed at 8:00 like we do every school night. I took a shower, and then I was in the kitchen washing dishes and preparing lunches for Monday. I turned off the faucet and listened. Did I hear Maddie talking?
I followed her voice to the front door and stopped. There they sat, Maddie and Daddy, on the front porch gazing up at the moon. I stood listening, trying to peer out into the darkness through the screen of the door.
“So,” I heard my husband tell her, “people from all over the world can see the moon, just like us.”
“Even in Ireland?” Maddie asked.
“Yep, even in Ireland.”
“Even in Indiana?”
I opened the door and stepped outside. Maddie sat close to her daddy, her legs tucked inside her nightgown. They were both turned towards the moon.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I said to Maddie.
“Daddy came and got me,” she smiled. “We’re watching the eclipse of the supermoon! It’s getting covered in the Earth’s shadow. Katie is still asleep cuz she’s too little.”
I stood on the porch for a couple more minutes, but then I excused myself to go finish my work in the kitchen.
This was their time, their moment.
I hope Maddie remembers. I hope she remembers the night when she was five years old and Daddy got her out of bed to sit on the front porch and look at the moon.