Over the Moon...

Fair warning:

Today's column is not at all about beer, though it is about a certain elixir.

Nor is it about food, though it is certainly about a type of sustenance.

It's about what millions--perhaps billions-- of people have experienced, while the same number has not.

It's about a moon.

And how love brought it into existence.

Why is the moon such a ubiquitous reference for folks? I mean, "I love you to the moon and back" is as overused as any metaphor ever was. And why not "to the sun and back?" It's a lot further, therefore a more powerful metaphor for feelings of love.

But the moon gets the nod. Moonlight, especially of the silvery variety, has long been imbued with magical powers of enchantment, and "mooning over" someone (not AT someone, which is profoundly different) is an indication of being hopelessly, helplessly in love. Yes, the moon has been amply represented in song, art and myth for as long as men and women have gazed upward at the night sky.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's a fascinating celestial body that directly affects humans, the tides, the weather, the success or failure of crops--and even the menses. So I'm not dissing the moon or the old man in it. The Norsemen dedicated a whole month to the moon and drank mead (a type of fermented honey beverage) every day of that month to celebrate a Viking wedding.

Called Hjunottsmanathr (Honey month), it was the Viking way to celebrate the taking of a bride. And, as you can probably imagine, when the Vikings took a bride, they actually TOOK a bride, and "smoothness" was likely not a part of the process. Regardless, we derive our word "honeymoon" from the practice. But this old man has recently been struck by another form of moonlight.

Her name is Luna. And she's my very first grandchild. Born on Flag Day, we consider her to be something of a miracle, not just because she was born, but because of who she was born to. Long story short, her dad (my son) was struck down with previously undiagnosed end stage kidney disease at the young age of 26. His search for a kidney donor to save his life ended when his now wife, Luna's mother, said she'd give him her hand in marriage if she could also give him her kidney.

That they were a perfect match--in more ways in one--is part of the story, and their five-hour kidney transplant operation was the stuff of legend, getting exposure in newspapers and on TV shows across the fruited plain. And their beam of moonlight, their new daughter Luna, is the current coda to that fairy tale story. After nine months of excited expectation, coupled with worry about the possibility of complications involved in a high-risk birth (which is how a pregnant woman with just one kidney is designated), Luna arrived, ironically, on the exact day her doctor predicted. She was 7 lbs. 12 oz. and 20 3/4 inches long. She arrived completely healthy with all her fingers and toes--and two healthy kidneys.

And, we are both grateful and thankful for everyone who made this miracle possible, from those who offered help in one form or another--including offers of a kidney, to the medical professionals who made it happen, and certainly to Alix, who saved our son's life with her selfless organ donation. It saved one life and, by so doing, gave life to another. We are "over the moon." But I can guarantee Luna is one moon we will never get over.