What I didn’t realize was that it started at midnight and went for six hours with the peak hitting at around three a.m. When she told me that later on, my reply was, “I’m not staying up until three in the morning.” She agreed. So, we made a pact. If one of us got up around that time to use the bathroom (as inevitably happens almost every night), then that person would wake the other person up. If neither of us woke up, then it wasn’t meant to be.
At 2:35 a.m. exactly, my mind switched on. It wasn’t so much that I had to use the bathroom (although I definitely did the more I tried not to think about having to use the bathroom), but more just a sudden awareness of space and time around me. So, I pulled some warm clothes on and trudged outside to assess the eclipse situation. After all, there was no reason to wake up my spousal unit if we couldn’t see anything. It was a gorgeous night…er…morning; cool, crisp, and not a cloud in the sky. The eclipse was on full display, having turned 90% of the moon a rusty, red color. So, I trudged back inside to get backup.
It was awesome to sit in the driveway, freezing our backsides off, wrapped in multiple blankets, munching on mini cinnamon pinwheels…and just talk. We rarely get to do this because our son always interrupts us. It was like a date night. We laughed, we complained about our neighbor’s dog barking at the moon, and we watched the white part of the moon get smaller and smaller.
I don’t know too many people that would enjoy that or be willing to get up at three in the morning to watch an eclipse. It made me realize how special my spousal unit is and how lucky I am to be married to her. How many people can say they’ve had a date under the stars at three in the morning in the light of a rust-red moon?
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