Super Moon! Wolf Moon! Charlie’s Moon!

Wolf Moon

Last night we took turns talking to Charlie the old-fashioned way – by telephone, one at a time.  I think that we have skype possibilities but that didn’t occur to us.  We just wanted to tell him “Happy New Year” and so we called.  It was Marta who enthused to him that “his” moon was gorgeous over the bay, “Yes.  Your moon!  Charlie Howell.  Wolf Moon. Get it?” she said.

I don’t know what his response was, but her remark opened up an entire line of thought that had never occurred to me.  That Charlie is a night person I have known for more than half a century.  But never before have I associated his last name with the howl of a wolf, nor made a connection between Charlie and the moon.  Not even with this Super Moon which is also called a Wolf Moon.

WWII Beach Patrol

Almost simultaneously, I thought about my grandfather who once had a run-in with the World War II Night Patrol as they clip-clopped on horseback through Oysterville one moonlight night.  Papa was on the roof replacing some shingles and the young Coast Guardsmen ordered him down.  “Don’t you know there’s a blackout, sir?”  one asked.  I don’t know whether Papa came down or not but I do know that he replied, “Don’t you know that God put that moon up there, son?”  It was an oft repeated story by family and neighbors.

Much to my grandmother’s everlasting irritation, my grandfather was a night person of the first order.  Despite her calls down to the room they called the nursery, “Come to bed, Harry!” he seldom complied until the sky was already growing light in the east.  He’d arrive, fully dressed and wide awake, in the dining room for breakfast about the time the rest of us were about to have lunch.  As a child, I never thought that was peculiar.  It was just Papa.

Early Morning Moon Through Our Window

I can’t imagine why I have never thought that my own son’s upside-down sleeping habits might be genetic.  Or was it some subliminal understanding that passed between them the one time they met and Papa, in his eighty-third year, cradled his seven-month old great-grandson with such delight and affection?

Wolf Moon.  Charlie Howell.  Night person like Papa.  Working by moonlight.  Just sayin’…

2 Responses to “Super Moon! Wolf Moon! Charlie’s Moon!”

  1. Cate Gable says:

    Oh Sydney: this whole thing is a prose poem. Wonderful!

  2. sydney says:

    Wow! Coming from you that is a fabulous comment! (If only I could really believe it!! lol)

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