Ephemeris

30 : A Beautiful Disaster

February 24, 2031

Dear Luna,

It has been a year, and the bracelet still adorns my wrist, a constant reminder of the unwavering promise of an old man and a nurse to be there for me. As I sat at my desk, writing this letter and marveling at the new world outside, I was filled with a renewed life perspective.

My palms and fingers are indeed an artist's hand because I have made some sketches of the Earth's landscapes that have become more beautiful than before. The chaos that occurred was a beautiful disaster. I tried to draw the girl I had met in white, but I couldn't remember her face, even her name. I recalled that I had taken a picture of her, but when I checked my phone, I just saw the hair barrette, the magnifying glass, and the Rubik's cube suspended in the air with the floating island and the rusty bridge in the background. The girl enlightened me to choose the right path, and that's all I know.

I have sketches of portraits of you as well, Luna. How did I do those portraits? I didn't have an idea of your face because you don't have one or a body, perhaps. Well, I can feel your dazzling beauty, like the restored moon glowing over our roof. One of my sketches of you is now on a frame, along with other family pictures in the living room. In the drawing, you are in a meadow, running towards the Tree of Life. I can proudly say that I am a better artist than Mother. Still, I'm not a fan of her garish velvet painting, but I appreciate it bit by bit as we cherish this new life.

Still, our house is at the top of a raised ground—a small peculiar cliff. It is beautiful that cottony clouds are back as I admire the skyline up here, sticking my face through my fixed window. The gray cloudscapes quench the vast swathes of green, showering their healing tears. In the east, the sun is still glowing hot, encircled by a sublime nimbus, rousing from the cloak of the mountainous terrain. Each sunbeam is like a spotlight making every shadowy corner reveal its pure, vibrant colors. As I glance to the west, the colors of the rainbow are so inviting, teasing me to come out and commune with nature and find friends among these myriad creations.

Peering down at our small garden, Daddy is doing some landscaping. A while ago, I saw him yanking weeds, raking the dead leaves, and spreading some mulch around the newly planted flowering shrubs. He was sweating tremendously, maybe because this job was out of his expertise. I can see he enjoyed decorating the gravel path with red and pink wild roses. And he had just harvested tomatoes and butchered some rabbits earlier.

The two mahogany trees are alive! I thought they would not survive, but today it seemed they grew more leaves—thick foliage for the tweeting fowls soothing my ears. At this moment, one bird from a nest swoops below and picks up a twig. It is an astonishing second that hope is alive and kicking again. Every creature is living for the glory of life.

If you ask me what I shall do for this second chance, this gift, I will have it to live the best way possible, better than I did before and better than I have perceived.

I remember that Daddy promised us a vacation in Rome to see the Colosseum to remember the valiant gladiators. I recall he saw me acting like a gladiator when I was eight. I mimicked them because I wanted to be strong and courageous like those muscular and fearless fighters.

Well, the universe works in mysterious ways. Just two kilometers from our freshly painted house, the ancient amphitheater landed in our village roughly five months from now. Our neighbors did a great job removing the rubble on its majestic entrance. Maybe this afternoon, I will remind Daddy of his promise to make us gladiator costumes out of junk and have a picnic in the center of the first-century architecture tomorrow. I can't wait for it!

Down in the kitchen, I can smell the meaty and saucy spaghetti Mommy is cooking. Oh no! The same dish she was preparing when I struck her with a ball and snuffed the light out of you. For the record, I have forgiven myself and wholly forgotten the convoluted past. I was all wrong about everything a year ago. I had a shallow understanding of how forgiveness, acceptance, and love work.

In the past, I accepted only the things that comforted me, blanking out the rest of the world, blinded with negativity, and kept hurting myself with the burden I was to blame. Admittedly, there are things in life we cannot fathom. Some give us headaches, and some raise our spirits. But love bridges everything.

Now, I achieved happiness because I embraced myself as a human—imperfect but beautiful. I took every problem and pain that punched me from time to time, but I held my head high and endured the aches. As well as, I widened my view that people are dissimilar, yet our lives are the same, striving for happiness.

Mommy neglected me for the longest time—it was yearlong. But whenever I harked back to her embrace, the kind of warm embrace I wished to feel from her again when I was unconscious, floating in the lethal atmosphere, I could only think that she did it because she loved me. It's as if our eyes met back in the orphanage, and she instantly fell in love with me. She held me in her arms and nursed me as her child.

I am her baby, she loves me, and I love her.

That year-long suffering was just a phase in our lives, a needle that pricked our hearts to bleed, a test of our bond. Gone are the days of pain. Each Earth's complete rotation lapsed a day, pushing us to drive beyond, to laugh, live, and love, hoping for the best things yet to come.

Let us rewind a little. Mommy is preparing our favorite meaty spaghetti, for we all gather to celebrate something special today—it's you. We will not call this day your death anniversary but your "official birthday," Luna. The celebration is quite simple under the two towering mahogany trees by your gravestone. Each of us will light a candle for you—one from me, another from Daddy, and one more from Mommy. I hope our surprise will please you. And I am filled with joy because we are together, a family again greeting you with a happy birthday.

Here's my message for you, my beloved sister. I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do.

I am happy to meet you even though you are not here. Well, we cannot change yesterday. It is already gone and far. I refuse to tear some pages from our stories and revise the chapters of agony and misfortunes.

I am flawed, and you are innocent. Losing you was tragic, but it has made my soul stronger. You taught me to set tiny goals, dashing time like on hurdles, jumping on each accomplishment no matter how hard it gets. In difficult times that seemed to have no end, your kind presence helped me make a burden that I thought impossible to conquer. It's not easy, but Luna, you glow in the darkness of my disordered world. You opened my heart like everything is new.

Thank you for making me feel like me again. Thank you for entering my life and making me who I am today. And knowing that you, Luna, have my back empowers me even more.

As the revived moon—now like a nonpareil cookie covered with chocolate and milk sprinkles—is captured by the heavens above, shining her quiescent divinity, we are jubilating. It will always be a full moon and will stay on that spot forever and ever. My beloved Luna, our celestial body or being, thank you.

Your loving brother,

Daniel

P.S.

And you made me realize that life is a woven ordered-chaos love. I will welcome every comfort or pain of the ups and downs of my life.