Moonrise on Jupiter

A Glimpse into the Thoughts & Imaginings of Vibeke Hiatt

Sunday Morning

Originally Published January 2018

I woke up to the sound of Wolfie talking to himself. It felt too early for him to be awake. I looked at the clock on my phone. 7:25. Well, maybe not too early for him. I had a headache, though, so it was definitely too early for me.

I lay in bed trying to telepathically ask my husband to take care of our little boy while I got some more rest. I rolled over to see that he had heard my mental plea. I told him about my headache and we exchanged “I love yous” as he left the room to take Wolfie downstairs.

Their voices carried upstairs while they ate breakfast. In my bed, I tried not to think about the pink elephant stomping around on my brain. I got up long enough to use the bathroom and take some medicine for my migraine. Then, I went back to bed.

After a while, Brett and Wolfie came back upstairs. Brett was still tired and wanted to rest some more himself. We told Wolfie to lie between us, hoping we could all rest.

But looking into my son’s eyes as he beamed with innocent joy, all thoughts of my headache went away. I realized that, while his dad rested and his sister slept, this was one-on-one time with me that Wolfie needed. We whispered to each other about things I can’t remember, but which made us happy. I didn’t feel tired anymore. He was anxious to learn and was willing to listen to everything I had to say.

I asked if he wanted to read a scripture and he said yes. We read the first verse of 1 Nephi from the Book of Mormon. He was restless, but he listened. Next, I asked if he wanted to hear a story. He said yes. I told him I was going to read him one of my favorite stories, then read Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Princess and the Pea.”

Inspired by the story, we talked about Denmark—the land my mother comes from and the land I heard so much about growing up. Wolfie was especially excited to hear about the mythical Danish hero named Holger, who sleeps beneath Kronborg castle. I showed him the small statuette I bought in Denmark a few years ago and he wanted me to take his picture with it.

We also talked about “The Ugly Duckling.” We had questions and used my phone to find the answers. A baby swan is called a cygnet. From the pictures we found, it is true that ducklings are cuter than cygnets, but swans are much more beautiful than ducks. And although ducks may try, their heads and necks just can’t form a heart the same way swans’ can.

Our time with each other only lasted half an hour, and then we needed to start getting ready for church. My headache was still there, but, strangely, spending time alone with my son helped me find energy for the day more than sleep would have. Such a simple moment continues to be a wonderful treasure.

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