Comforting Moon

I remember the tiny little bed in an attic I believe. Lying there that night, looking out the window at the big, shiny moon and wondering where you were. Where was my mama? Where was my papa? Who were these people that owned the bed in the attic that had a window that had a moon? Had you given me away? Didn't you love me anymore? Why? What had I done? What hadn't I done? Wasn't I good? Didn't I behave? I tried really hard. Wasn't my hard good enough? Would I ever see you again? Did you miss me too? Would the sun rise tomorrow or was this the end of time? These and so many more were questions that plauged my mind that night. I was three. One of my earliest memories. Being alone. All alone. And not knowing why. No understanding. One day I was happy at home with my mama and daddy. The next I was in a strange place with strange people thinking strange thoughts that had never occurred to me before. Like all children, I'm sure, my mother and father were my rock, my foundation, my life. They were the people I turned to for everything. They had all the answers. They kept me safe. Nothing bad could ever happen so long as they were there. No monsters in the closet. No boogie man under the bed. Then it happened. They were gone. I didn't know where they were. I didn't know why they left - or left me. I didn't know if they were coming back. And for the first time in my short life, I came to understand that I wasn't safe. I was alone. It was just me in the world. I couldn't trust or depend on anyone if I couldn't trust and depend on my mother and father. What would I do? Where would I go? What would become of me? These questions kept me up that night as I lay in that bed looking at that big ol moon. Fear. I felt it. It was real. It was consuming. It was terrorizing. But somehow the moon saved me. It gave me comfort. I had seen it before. It was familiar in that place of strange. It got me through the night. And to this day, when I look at the moon, there is a peace that fills me with a knowing that everything is gonna be ok. . . somehow.