It pains me to watch Bright ache for America. Five years later, and he still yearns to be there. Daily. And it breaks my heart.
Last week he said to us, in a fit of tears, "I miss the moon!" An understandable lament, seeing how we rarely have a moon in our smoggy sky. In fact, it hardly even gets dark here. Rather, it stays a filmy bright-gray, from the rays of daylight which bounce around inside the clouds and the mist until long past sunset.
But there is a moon; that's what we tell Bright. It's still up there, even when we can't see it. The separation only makes seeing the moon all the sweeter.