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He points his little chubby finger up to the sky and raises his voice in excitement the moment he finds that mischievous moon.
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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.

