He points his little chubby finger up to the sky and raises his voice in excitement the moment he finds that mischievous moon.
It has become our silly tradition. One that brings a spring to my step each day. A memory that I will write down in my son's baby book. A topic of conversation later in life. Perhaps a jumping off point to begin to tell him the importance of the moon to his family. A way to share with him the legacy of his great grandfather, whom I can't help but think about every morning as I look for that moon among the sunrise.