When I was a little girl, my grandpa used to take me on long walks every night after dinner. On these long walks, he’d carry me on his shoulders so that I could get a three-year-old’ version of an aerial view of what I thought was the whole city. Every so often during the month, the moon would be out with us on our walks. I remember my young mind perplexed by the fact that no matter how far we walked the moon was always at the same place right above us.

“Why isn’t the moon behind us?” I’d ask. “Is it trying to beat us somewhere?”

“The moon is not racing against us,” he’d respond. “The moon is following you. The moon knows you’re the most beautiful princess in the whole world, and it can’t stop staring at you. So it follows you everywhere you go.”

I remembered, every night on those long walks I got to be the princess of my whole world, and my grandpa was the strong knight who carried me. 

Maybe that’s why I still love long walks at night. Maybe the walks, especially on full moon nights, is a way of connecting with him, and holding onto his memory. 

And sometimes, I pretend he’s near the moon and watching me, following me, where ever I go. 

R. A. Douglas

August 7, 2017.

42 thoughts on “The Moon Followed Me

  1. I love posts that draw from early memories, that capture the magic of childhood and highlight the wonderful connections we had with central figures in our upbringing…this captures all of that beautifully! Well done!

  2. Travelling was more of an observation as a child. Nothing to do, luckily no cellphones back in time and nowhere to jump off or run… So Observing things, counting trees was my fav. pastime during travelling…
    I observed a serious situation one day.
    I asked mom while on vacation travelling, “Mom, see the sun is coming along with us. why is the sun following us?”
    After arriving at my uncle’s home I used to shout, “See mom, HE is here too!”
    And my mom used to laugh sarcastically and say, “He too wants to join you on your vacations to your favorite uncle! If you are visiting, shouldn’t HE be allowed?!”
    I used to get embarrassed in amazement and smile.
    Thanks for writing this dear! That’s a very beautiful memory.

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