The Moon

Neil Armstrong was buried at sea today.  I remember watching him take that first step on the moon, on a black and white television, and marveling at the technology it took to get him there.  It was a time when the country was still full of hope, even though it was rapidly changing.  Everyone was talking about it, and when I arrived home, I brought up the news again, to discuss it with my family.  We were all full of enthusiasm, except for my grandmother, who turned away from the conversation, and was very quiet.  After our initial conversation was over, I came over to her and asked why she was not participating in the exchange.  She looked at me, and then glanced downward.  She sighed and said that she was very disappointed that there was a man on the moon.  I asked her why, looking at her closely.  She told me she thought God lived on the moon, and how could Neil Armstrong have flown to heaven, and now she knew that heaven wasn’t on the moon.  I found myself profoundly stopped in my tracks. Here was a woman who was faced with a belief she held all her life, only to find that it wasn’t true.  If there was ever a time when I needed to give back what she had given to me – this was the time.  I took her hand and said that I was lucky enough to study the world’s religions in my last year of high school, and that I learned a lot about God.  What I found out, was that God was everywhere, and he didn’t live in one place, and he didn’t have to be that image of an old man with a big gray beard.  God has no gender, or didn’t necessarily have to have human form, but if she wanted to believe God was a he, it was OK too.  I told her that she should hold onto her beliefs, and that nothing had changed, except perhaps, her view of God.  It was just another aspect she had not considered. She took some time to think about it, and then said that she could accept that.  I smiled and then said, “ now let’s enjoy Neil Armstrong’s giant step for mankind.”