Simon loved the moon. Well his dad loved the moon and Simon loved his dad, so Simon loved the moon. His dad would go to work every day carrying big telescopes while all his friend’s dads carried briefcases. Their neighbors would stare over the hedges and give his dad funny looks as he struggled to shove the instruments into his run-down car.  Simon didn’t care though because his dad was the coolest thing of all… an astronaut. His father worked on huge blueprints that would stream over the kitchen table like tablecloths and were covered in drawings of the stars and galaxies. His mom would get mad because Simon spent little to no time eating his dinner, but instead was immersed in the night sky before him. 

“The moon will always be there honey”, she would joke, “but your peas will not. Eat them before they get cold.” 

Not only at dinner, but Simon would study the stars whenever he got the chance. He knew so much about the night sky and would constantly be telling anyone who would listen about how amazing space was. In the middle of his first-grade class, Simon raised his hand practically to the ceiling when his teacher asked if anyone knew anything about the moon. The little boy bounced in his seat, circle glasses hopping up and down on his freckled nose, as he wagged his hand in the air. On the playground, kids would gather around him in a circle as he used all his strength to hold a big textbook he got from his dad’s office. 

“Now this my friends is a planet called Saturn.” Simon would say in his best teacher voice, shoving his chubby finger into the page, “Isn’t her ring so beautiful?” 

At night, when his dad was away at work in a big, big building, Simon would stare at the moon and ask it questions. 

“When is my daddy coming home?” he would ask, but the moon didn’t say much back. Even so, he knew it was listening because at that very moment a huge shooting star slung across the sky as if the moon was telling him to not worry. From that day on, the big bulb in the sky became his companion that he told everything to. 

As Simon got older, his questions for the moon became more demanding. 

“Hey Moon, it's me again. There’s this girl in class that I find extraordinary and the dance is coming up. What should I do?” The moon looked down onto the fourteen- year old boy and pondered its answer. Simon looked straight back and decided that the moon was telling him to go for it. 

The next day in school, he gathered all the courage he could and tapped the girl’s shoulder in front of him. He gave her a note with two checkboxes and shakily passed it forward. She looked at the note, smiled, and checked yes. 

That night he ran into his backyard and looked up at the moon with a goofy smile filled with braces. 

“She said yes! She actually said yes. Thank you, Moon.” He flopped back into the grass, clutching the note to his chest. He spent the rest of the night giving the moon all the details of that day and spoke to it as if it were a friend. 

...

Time continued to pass and with it, Simon saw less and less of his dad. Even when he was home, he looked tired. Big purple pools formed under his father’s eyes and he spent most of his time either sleeping or talking with Simon’s mom. These talks didn’t sound pleasant and they occurred behind closed doors which were supposed to keep their son from hearing, but he always did. One particularly cold night, he could hear his mom crying in her bedroom. Simon peaked through the slightly cracked door and saw his dad putting clothes into a suitcase. He looked defeated as he slowly zipped up the luggage and turned to his wife as if he was going to say something. Before a word could pass his lips, his wife held up her hand and turned her back. Simon could not determine why either of his parents looked so sad or why his dad was going away. He thought that maybe the Moon would know the story behind his parent’s tears. He slowly crept through the back door and saw his friend watching over him from the sky above.

“Moon,” he questioned, “why is everyone so sad?”

At that very moment, his dad joined him in the yard and stared at the sky above, avoiding eye contact with his son. Simon noticed how even though moments ago his father seemed so lost, the moon seemed to give him back the life in his eyes. 

“I used to talk to the moon, too”, his dad finally spoke. Neither of them said a word but gazed above for what seemed a little too long. Simon remembered feeling as though it was his father’s way of saying goodbye. Later that night, Simon awoke abruptly to his father’s rusty car pulling out of the driveway and in the morning he noticed that there were no longer stars on the dining room table. 

…

Simon didn’t see much of his dad in the years to come, but that did not stop him from hearing about his trip to the moon with NASA. It was all over the news and he often saw his father’s face flash across the t.v screen working on the spacecraft or trying on his immensely crafted suit. His dad looked happy surrounded by his fellow astronauts and Simon couldn’t help, but feel a pang of sorrow as he knew that this mission was one that would last for a long time. His father would be exploring the galaxy for up to seven years which meant missing Simon’s graduation, missing seven of his birthdays, and leaving his son without a father for nearly a decade. However, Simon didn’t see a fraction of sadness on his dad’s face as he gave pretentious interviews on how important this mission would be for “the future of space exploration.” A few times Simon couldn’t handle hearing his father talk to all the eager reporters and would turn off the t.v as he did not want to be reminded that his dad would be gone soon. Simon’s mom looked heartbroken for her son and was anxiously waiting for his dad to at least come and say goodbye, but she doubted he would have that much compassion. She knew him well enough from fifteen years of past marriage to know that nothing came between him and the stars. Certainly not her. Not even their son. Two weeks passed and it was now the big day. At 11 am, Simon would watch the rocket enter the atmosphere and go where he’s longed to see since he was five years old. He pictured how his dad's eyes would brighten just like they did many nights ago as he became among the thousands of stars up above. He waited on the couch, his mom by his side as the astronauts headed on stage for their parting interviews. He moved to the edge of his seat as his dad was finally given a microphone. A reporter asked his father if he had any last words of inspiration for the audiences sitting at home. His dad looked directly into the camera, took a shaky breath, and eventually spoke. 

“Don’t stop talking to the moon, I’ll be up there listening.” With that, he handed the microphone back and wiped at his eye with his gloved hand. He put on his helmet to avoid the thousands of cameras surrounding him from seeing the sadness caused by the message that was only meant for his son. Simon felt tears roll down his face as he gave a silent promise to his father that the moon would be their way of keeping in touch. Soon, the countdown came across the screen and Simon gripped his mother’s hand as the rocket shook and started to rise. His mother shook with silent sobs as her son whispered unheard “I love you’s” and closed his eyes when the rocket was finally out of sight. 

… 

When Simon got older, there was only one thing he could see himself doing. He followed in his father’s footsteps and made it his life's goal to make it to the moon. When the day finally came several years later, he kissed his mom goodbye and told her that he would tell her all about the vast planets above when he finished his mission. 

“I am so proud of you, Simon. You’ve worked so hard. Don’t forget about me up there.” Her voice cracked with emotion as she reluctantly dropped her son’s hand and entered back into the crowd. The next few moments passed by extremely quickly and he was soon above the blue sky and was greeted with the life-long companion that always seemed so far away. 

“Hey Moon,” Simon whispered, hand pressed against the glass window, “Tell my dad I say hi.”