Where is Mr. Moon?

I always adore how her eyes look at me; so lovely as the stars smiling to the moon at night.

“Of course he'll be happy to be your friend, honey.” She looked at me with blatant amusement all over her face. “He would surely love you like I do and even do your hair the way you would love it to be styled.”

“Just like how you do my hair?” Even as a child, I can remember how I imagined the look on my face that time, the cheeky grin on my lips, my eyes fixed looking at hers expecting to hear what my perked up ears wanted to hear. I was just a girl back then, merely a kid still hoping to be tucked in at night.

She smiled. “Yes! Exactly how I do your hair.” She smiled but the shine in her eyes was gone.

“Where is he now? Where is Mr. Moon, nana?” Her smile, there I saw.

It was so bright yet her eyes were lost. So bright, that I was blinded by it. Blinded by the fact that the answers were just there, locked up in the dead of the night. Her thoughts were drifting so far away – far away from me.

Before I could have her answer, she would first look at the closed window of our bedroom. Looking outside the dead night. Sometimes there was the moon and the stars for me to see, but then all I saw was just us, our reflection on the glass.

“Mr. Moon, he's gone, sweetie.”

“Is he dead?” the young me would turn silent and thought about why would God take away such a good person without me meeting him. I should have known better. “Can we visit his grave? Like how we visit grandpaps and grandmams. We can even offer prayers for him.”

Her smile never faded, and she would softly brush my hair affectionately followed by a kiss on the forehead. “We can pray for him. However, we cannot visit his grave.” Before I could ask more, she would swiftly follow “Someday you’ll know why. But for now, close your eyes, my little star.”

Her lips already drew the spell that would make my little eyes drowsy. As if on cue, her quiet lullaby played through my endless darkness telling me to go on and travel so as long as I would follow her voice I could reach the la-la-land we had created together.

“Good night, Tala.”

Right! her eyes were so bright, so bright that I was so blinded by it. I missed those eyes that look at me. Lovingly, as how the stars made the moon lovely during the quiet night times.

Though her eyes, just like the moon, it became so dull as like how time drew the stars out of the sky. Her little star was taken away from her.

I missed her and her stories about Mr. Moon. Without her, I sailed the distance and stare up to where might Mr. Moon be. Then, I was wrong, until now I am still wishing I never did.

I found where Mr. Moon was, but she already killed him so she can live a happy though a not so normal life.

He has no grave but just a coffin. His coffin was made of human flesh, fine and soft, voluptuous enough for his manly built. From the head, it was even adorned with great amount of long silk strands of dark brown thin strings that were styled to perfection. Down to how it was wrapped with different cozy and colorful dresses. My nana, she erased everything about him, like he was better off like a fiction. A fiction that she shared to me, because somehow, without Mr. Moon's sacrifice, she wouldn't be my ever so lovely nana.

The Moon, it doesn’t have its own light, instead it borrows light from the brightest star – the Sun. I was her light; yet she gave me glow more than the sun ever did to her. After knowing, where Mr. Moon had been, I still adore how her eyes look at me so lovely as the stars smiling to the moon at night.

Did she ever have regrets about Mr. Moon? None. Nana lived her every day to the fullest. We both know how proud Mr. Moon must have been for her. Nana turned to be brave, strong, and lovely; something Mr. Moon would smile upon. With a smile as lovely as my nana, I rest my heart that she lived a not-so-normal yet a fulfilling life that is worthwhile.

“Good night to you, Mr. Moon.”