Without us noticing, we have a new ritual. Father and daughter only. Sometimes Sirius comes by and watches us, but he lets us be for the most part.
Every evening, after the family has finished dinner, Luna calls me from the stairs, or comes to me with the little blue ball in her mouth. She wants us to play goal.
I throw the ball high in the air towards the wall. It bounces and rolls down the stairs, but Luna is waiting in the middle of the stairs, like the best goalie in the history, and intercepts it, catches it, bites it, and passes it on to me.
She wants to do it again. And off we go.
She enjoys it, and I feel happy. I’m in the moment, not thinking that I should or could be somewhere else, doing something else.
We’re both content.