My grandson Luke wanted to reach the moon. All I wanted to do was reach my grandson. We were in the shelter-in-place stage of the pandemic—masked trips to the grocery store if you dared, welcome mats being pulled away from front porches, and 4-hour plane rides to visit grandchildren or anyone bordered on abject lunacy.
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All the zooms and Facetimes in the world couldn’t make up for squishy hugs and slurpy kisses. A pathetic substitute for being with him, but after a few months, writing about him kind of took hold, and before I knew it…Luke’s Moon was born.
