A Moment In Time – LIFE AS A HUMAN

The frigid cold is upon us. Grey skies, frost and snow. All things winter. The icy streets bear witness to falls and near-falls, calculated only by how much balance one has out on the sidewalks and walkways.

And so Christmas will no doubt be a white one, a frosty one. But nothing could freeze this old heart of mine. I’m feeling grateful as I sit in my new home surrounded by photos and artwork by all of the different artists who are family and friends. The memories begin to come to me as I look at the photos lined up neatly on my desk.

I’m thinking back to one December when my husband proposed to me. It was December 23rd to be exact. I don’t recall what year it might have been? But amongst winter coats of all kinds, men’s and women’s, furs and ski jackets, scarves and hats, my then-boyfriend got down on one knee as I sat on the bed of coats and asked me to marry him. I started to cry, he started to cry. Then we were laughing. I could hear friends outside the bedroom door where they were waiting to hear “Yes” (I’m sure some of that evening was orchestrated by the host.) When we emerged, everyone crowded around us, giving their congratulations. There were tears of joy and hugs and kisses, it was all so wonderful and magical. We were going to get married. What a thrilling night that was. The cold melted away and we were on the road to a life together.

Many winters have come and gone. I have fond memories of Christmas celebrations with family that have since passed away, on my husband’s side and mine. Yet when I remember those significant people in our lives, I remember the feeling of magic. The memories of ‘one finger, one thumb’ and ‘put your right foot in and turn it all about’, the gifts being open on Christmas morning, carols playing on the radio, laughter and love in all these different scenarios. And he is always with me in spirit – my love, my husband.

We have two absolutely amazing children. They, too, have been a blessing that I could never have predicted. Because they’re a part of him, they’re always going to remind me of him. My son and daughter carry many of his traits, good and bad, and I’m so grateful for that. My son’s son, our grandson, carries the Page name with strength and honor. They stoke the fire that keeps me warm while the bitter cold tries to sneak up on me, tries to throw me off-balance. But I hold on tight to each of these memories like they’ll carry me, hold me, give me purpose and joy.

Though my husband’s been gone two years now I feel him close by, warming my heart and giving me the strength to move on. I know he’s beside me and his spirit is laughing at all the things I do that don’t make sense to anyone but him and me of course. He knew me so well. That December so many years ago will always be a memory that will keep me warm in winter. It will wrap me up in the notion that even when something ends it begins again, just like those memories.