This may be the first year in which I am genuinely excited to welcome in winter. We’ve flirted in the past, because it does take a certain courting period to get me to warm up to, well, anything. Lately though, I’ve been leaning into the season of rest and slumber, embracing its icy beauty, and wondering at its life-lessons.
I think it started with the last couple of winters Dad was with us in our old home. To give Mom a break, and to spend time with my father, I’d take a day off from work and drive to Amsterdam, setting up camp while Mom ran errands or just took some time for herself. On the dim gray days, I’d light candles and make tea, then join Dad for whatever black and white movie was on television.
In the early days of his decline, he’d peruse his paper, and later on a worn collection of fake money. We’d amble in to the kitchen for whatever lunch Mom had left for me to heat up, and if the sun was out all the light would pour into the kitchen like it did for so much of my childhood. Back when he could get around, we’d take brief walks outside, but in winter we could only take a walk through the dining room and living room, where he’d pause and look out the windows.
Sometimes we’d sit in the living room – the place of Christmases past, and birthday parties, and extended family dinner gatherings – the space where the most special events played out, and then the most important event of them all: time with my father.
We’d have a few more summer days together too, but it’s those winter ones I remember at this time of the year – and I’m very grateful to have had them; they taught me to embrace this season of slowing down. While the wind and snow whipped around outside, the stillness and calm inside cast its own meditative spell.
This winter I’m looking forward to the quiet that follows the holidays, the way candles can flicker and glow even in the daylight, and the slow shift of the sun as it begins elongating the days. The stark, lean, cruel beauty of tinter – we will take our time, letting the days slowly pass, growing longer one by one…
