Free Fall

Disturbed by some uneasiness I awake to the view of the lake from the deck. The moon brands the moving waters in quicksilver. Beyond the idle chaise lounge, beyond the spiral of shadows created by the deck railing, the light pours down into the shining abyss.

My mother must have seen this view. When she was diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer, we came to this house in the mountains that dad had built with his bear paws twenty years ago. At 83, my mother spent the days laboring at the foot of the deck, gathering up the pine needles and duff thrown down in the annual cycle of the trees. Work as salvation. Dad was already gone.

I turn my back to the scene and curl into the dark embryo of the warm bed. But the moonlight is there, shining at the edge of my consciousness, a trickle, and I know I will not sleep.

Count the increments of time as the moon continues its steady arc over the sky. Parent-child time magnifies even as it disappears. It’s alright. Everything will be alright. In the kingdom of the living and in the kingdom of the dead. Knowing more, knowing less, it is what it is.