my love,
where’s the snow my love? where’s the snow?
the last three months have been a whirlwind. the summer ended, you and the kids went back to school. for a brief time it was a little sad and empty, at least the rhythm and grind filled in that gap. suddenly we were scrambling for candy and before we even put away the pumpkin head from our porch, we were driving out for thanksgiving. not a week later, christmas.
how is this happening? can you make it stop? it’s too quick, too fast, I want to breathe. we were driving to the mall the other day, the kids and I, it was good, solid, slow. we weaved our way through the mall, teased each other, found a place to sit, sifted through stores, jammed up in traffic trying to escape. but there was a moment as we neared home, a song came on, and the kids began to sing. each with their own unique frequency of delight, and I said to myself, remember this, I want to stay right here, in this moment and the memory of it that will come later. I want to radiate between the living and the memory of living it. to pan out and capture it all, to hear the echo of it, to be the chamber that holds it and keeps it outside of time.
the scattered years where we couldn’t open the door to the backyard. where we went to sleep and could see the harsh line that separated the street from the curb only to awake in pure cotton from door to door. or the nights where each snowflake stripped the world of all sound and buried it in watchful silence. we would look out the window and gasp but it couldn’t be heard. we backed away with relief. It was going to be a good day. a full day. a day without end. In pajamas, didn’t they still wear pajamas? or perhaps we would make snow angels. it didn’t matter, it was quiet. we could rest easy. time had stopped. If only to be there again and in the memory of it again. it’s hard to explain, to be present but also remembering the present. that sublime moment where you realize this, this is worth living and living over again.
where’s the snow my love? where’s the snow?
love, always
me