A Moon Rocked My Nephew

As an Aunty to many a niece and nephew, I have been blessed with countless opportunities for stepping into the realm of active imagination. By default, I've spent more time on this planet with my oldest nephew, Matthew. He is named in honor of my father's dead twin brother, and in someways, he almost even looks like Mathias. 

They have the same dark fawn eyes, gleaming with possibilities of what life could hold. The few photos I've seen of my "uncle" are a bit eerie, as I see the reflection of my Dad in someone that never made it into teen hood.  His kidney's gave out in a time before organ transplants were as accessible, so he became bloated and his eyes yellowed, and then he was gone. My father trudged on, an identical twin living without his other half.

When my father become a grandfather, he got a new lease on life. He had a new boy to ask all the questions and to discover all the answers with. 

How do you use a hammer and a wood splitter? When is the right time to plant the garden? Had winter's last frost passed? Where were the toads holed up during winter?  When should we collect the chicken eggs? What color is a robin's egg? What do hummingbirds drink? How do you drive a lawnmower? How high can a swing be pushed before you go upside down?

That last question was one I got to answer. As my parents got older and I dipped in and out of their lives, my life also intercepted sporadically with Matthew's. I've always tried my best to make those moments with him count, to be present, and pay attention, and playful.

He told me that Papa pushed the swing so hard and fast that he could kick the tallest branches of the maple tree. I was impressed with this assertion, as the swing was attached to the "lowest" limb of a maple tree that was nearly 30 feet up. I've always admired my father (Papa's) strength, as he doesn't look like he should be strong, but he always has been. So I pushed Matthew with the spirit of my father, and my nephew went soaring.

The moon was high and visible in the sky that day, and I joked, "I'll push you so high, you'll kick something higher than the tallest branches--you'll kick the moon."

Matthew hollered as I gave it all I had, his feet dangled and flailing in delight. "Look! I can do it! I can kick the moon!"

Once the moon was reachable, I knew the next step had to be a acquiring a moon rock, so I quickly grabbed a pebble from the little rock collection in the flowerbeds and tucked it into my pocket.

"If you kick the moon hard enough, maybe you'll break off a piece of moon rock!" I yelled as he launched skyward again.

His little legs furiously kicked, and I tried to time it just right, and threw the rock in the air as he descended.

"Look! I think I saw something, did you see that?"

He screamed, "I saw it! I saw something fall! Stop me, I need to look!"

I had barely brought the swing to a halt as Matthew launched himself from it and crashed into the grass. I helped in his investigation and spotted the Moon Rock.

"Is that something?" I pointed in the direction of the rock.

"Yes! This is it! I found it!" His voice filled with excitement. "I need to show Papa my moon rock!"

He dashed off to the garage, where Dad was busying himself with an item off his mythical Never-Ending Projects List. 

"Look at this moon rock I found Papa!" Matthew yelled as he flung open the garage door. My dad was elbows deep in a box of books he had recently rescued from the recycling center. Dad saved thousands of books over my lifetime, and I am sure he owns the only copy of exist of editions.

My father stepped away from his books and took a look at the rock, then glanced at me. 

"That's a rare find," he said, without skipping a beat. "Neil Armstrong would approve of this one."

Matthew giggled, grabbed his rock and my hand and tugged me from the garage in a hurry. 

"I need another moon rock Aunt Em," he said as he used every bit of his strength to drag me back towards the maple tree and its swing.