web analytics
Black Velvet
December 16, 2012 – 3:09 pm | 17 Comments

Childhood memories are vivid, almost indescribable in their detail, and impossible to forget. A Christmas memory I have is that of a black velvet dress  a family friend gave to me for my seventh Christmas.
The …

Read the full story »
casa + cultura

The sabor of Latino living.

dichos + del alma

Inspiration and reflection.

el buzz

News and pop culture.

foto + video

See us. See yourself.

the habla habla

Our stories.

Home » the habla habla

Lessons of a Luna Moth

Submitted by on July 24, 2009 – 6:11 am3 Comments

luna-moth-by-urtica-on-flickrI found the wings of a luna moth in my garden this week, right next to where the yellow sundrops bloom. Just wings. Neatly stacked on top of themselves, like a tiny and fallen house of cards. There was no body. Just wings.

I stopped and stared and wondered where the heart of this magic night creature had gone. Ashes to ashes, perhaps.

We find things like this on our wooded property with some regularity. Deer skulls, turtle shells, empty nests. But the luna moth and its wings made me stop longer than I usually do. A reminder we are fragile and fleeting.

Two great-uncles — my grandfather’s younger hermanos — died in Miami within two days of each other earlier this month. One was 89. The other 93. Of eight siblings, one remains. In those couple of days, it felt as if the link between my family’s past and future was weakening. These two great-uncles were fixtures of my childhood. They were there during regular and casual visits, for big family gatherings. One was somewhat reserved, the other always smiling. I always remember them in guayaberas. They were a link to my beloved grandfather, my funny great-grandmother, to a country and culture 90 miles across the ocean. And, in 48 hours, both were gone. A quick and ironic ending to lives well-lived.

That luna moth reminded me I am glad I tell stories, keep notes for my daughter so she knows the people from whom she comes.

We are here, bump up against the light, and leave behind a pile of color. A fragile and fleeting link in a chain.

I’ve kept the wings.

* foto by urtica

Share, por favor!


Leave a comment!

Add your comment below, or trackback from your own site. You can also subscribe to these comments via RSS.

Be nice. Keep it clean. Stay on topic. No spam.

You can use these tags:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

This is a Gravatar-enabled weblog. To get your own globally-recognized-avatar, please register at Gravatar.

CommentLuv badge