Luna

I never understood why I had to keep things a secret when it came to Luna.

She would always tell me to slow down and not be so anxious. There were days when I would question her and ask myself why.

Why now, why not then.

Luna was a free spirit she believed in miracles she believed in the moment, she believed in the journey, the story, she believed in the good, and in God.

She believed there would be an ending that made sense. She believed in the possibility of greatness. Luna was my pear tree. She understood me and I understood her. She would greet me in the morning, and I would tell her about my day.

She listened so well, and she never judged me.

She was a fruit, but she was more than that she was a root. She became a part of me so that I could understand the value of life, the value of time.

Since the moment we planted the seed I knew, I knew her passion would grow inside of me. The timing, the patience, the waiting, the grinding. The long days and sleepless nights. The rainstorms and sunny days, the crying and fighting, the words of wisdom.

The screaming and yelling

The soothing tones and the lullabies.

Tales of romance, and the love stories, the mud and the dirt, the grind and the work.

No days off, the sun, the moon, the stars, the water to dirt. The understanding of life. The compromise, The sacrifice.

When my days felt long, Luna would listen to me mourn and she would whisper back “life goes on”.

She knew the struggle, but she also knew it would be worth it. Life is hard but life is good.

The beauty and the miracles

The constant growth

The let downs and knockdowns, but the get back up.

The fight, the struggle, the hustle.

The pain and the gain.

The subtilty.

It’s the miracle of life. The questioning, the unanswered, but the understanding, that there will be good days and bad days, long months, and better years. I would talk to Luna about my fears sometimes through tears. She was silent but she listened. She was encouraging and inspiring. She admired me and I admired her. I would tell her stories of my childhood; I could feel her smile, her laughter was soft but thunderous. She was my pear tree. It’s amazing how much she’s grown how much she knows.

Innocent but stubborn, feisty, and fierce.

She loved the sunlight and the moonlight

I could lay for hours with Luna staring at the sun, watching the clouds move by, dreaming of the ocean waves and better days.

I always had so much to say, and that was okay because Luna knew my pain, she knew my story, she knew me.

She was a friend, there was nothing more I could ask for.

She was there for me when I was torn, and I was there for her through the storms.

I made sure she felt loved and appreciated and it was always reciprocated.

Sometimes I would speak out loud, like we were in a crowd, but there was no one around.

There were times I could hear the wind scream through the leaves, as if she was crying out for me.

And days where I would be on my knees begging, asking her to pray for me.

How could it be my best friend was a pear tree.

I’ll always cherish the day we planted that seed.

Luna, our pear tree.