Christmas had some truly special moments - family, friends and enough food to feed everyone on my street.
But one of the best moment was just me and Second Born Son.
Between Christmas and New Years I found myself sitting up way later than I should have been. I was punch drunk from the late night before - food, friends and laughter. The silence of the night was softly interrupted by SBS who was navigating down the hall for his nightly visit to the Salle de Bain. After I tucked him back in, I left his room and noticed the eerie light from outside and remembered that this was the night of the Blue Moon - defined as the second Full Moon of a month. A rare occurrence, it was drawn to my attention by a newscast earlier in the day.
I slipped back down to his room and whispered in his hear "Hey babe, do you want to see something really neat?" Instantly he was awake - more awake than he had been moments before.
I led him through the darkness of the house - having snapped off the lights and the TV to give the glow its most dramatic unveiling. But for some reason, it didn't impress the way I had hoped.
"Come here for a minute" I said, kicking off my slippers and sliding my feet instinctively into the winter boots I keep at the back door. I reached down, grabbed him around the waist and he reached for around my neck. It has been years since I've carried him. He's only 9, but he's big for his age and lifting him hasn't been an option.
But the moment was slipping away and I wanted him to see what I saw.
We stepped out into the night and the light shone on his face and his face shone on me. In spite of the wintery temperature, we clung to each other and he wondered in the beauty of the moon - brighter than any other he had seen and a truly unique shade.
I made a point of being very present in the moment and recorded it in my mind. Although it has only been a week, I've played it back in my mind dozens of times. I only hope he can remember...
After I returned him to his flannel sheets, a pain of guilt shot through me and I slipped into First Born Son's room. Selfishly I hoped I could relive the moment. I leaned over his form and whispered the same invitation, not once, but three times and was answered by a random elbow to the jaw.
The night was special for only two people that night. And one will never forget.