After

Outside my window the neighbor's strings of white lights twinkle in the snow that has whisked about for days now. Usually, in wintertime, this time of day fills me with a sense of gathering gloom. The lamps I click on in defiance of sadness seem swallowed by darkness that deepens and creeps into the hidden spaces between my mind and joints. Tonight we said BOO to the gloom and set our little table with a bright orange checked cloth, a plate of jam tarts, and cobalt blue tea cups. We drank to being a simple family again, quieted for a second to listen to the happy, calming hum of the heater. . .and NOTHING ELSE. It's quite a change from having twelve people, half of them children, in our house for the past ten days. Before that we went awassailing to Texas--before that, endless parties and visits and a flurry of good intentions. The yells of victory over games, the child admitting defeat to another with tears, giddy laughter, the rustling of wrapping paper, snowy scarves, books and clinking of good eating with so many people I love so furiously.

Ah.

Silence.

Happy New Year.