Sitting at my daughter’s late May season opener, I feel as though I’m in disguise. I may look like just another softball mom, eating sunflower seeds, watching the scoreboard and cheering for my girl as she pops a fly ball into left field. Of course I’m here for her, but the Astro Babe in me always looks up no matter where I am. I’m watching the game, but I’m fully aware of the moon, hanging above third base.
It’s a beautiful waxing gibbous moon. The sea of tranquility winks at me as the man in the moon peeks around the shadow. I smile. I can almost feel the moonglow on my face. “Good catch!” I yell as my shortstop catches a fly ball and brings me back to the game.
This will be our last summer at the park. It’s her last season. No more concession-stand duty. No more sand in my eyes. No more long weekend tournaments and flip flop tan lines. The softball games may be over, but there’ll always be a moon to smile on me, waxing and waning over and over again. It’s time to dust off my scope!