The lake is frozen over the trees are white with snow

and all around are reminders of you

everywhere I go…

Christmas has just past. New Year events lie ahead. I’m listening to George Winston’s album, December that I must have played a hundred times over the years since it first came out. Music can pull me powerfully into another era, draw out memories once buried, cause me to relive the once upon a time, long ago’s of my 57 years of loving Bob.

Tonight I put the finishing touches on a pot of split pea soup. The ham bone has been simmering all day and when I come into the house with the groceries it smells delicious, ham and balsam candle odors taking me back to all the times I made soup after Christmas, bought a Christmas candle to accentuate the pine. Times after the traditional Christmas morning brunch, honey-baked ham a prerequisite, as are cheese strattas, coffee cakes, florentine potatoes, fresh squeezed orange juice, coffee. Rich food beyond all measure.

So I slice remaining ham off the bone, chop an onion, add some chicken stock, the dried peas, a potato and some carrots, season to taste. I play another CD on my under the counter radio/stero. I’m behind electronically, no “Alexa” for me, just the pile of Christmas CD’s that I keep in a kitchen cupboard near the player. I love this instrument, a gift many years ago from our kids, one that works perfectly as I work.

I feel strangely let down tonight, sad. Yes, it is good to have some space after so many dazzling activities, to wind down, to do simple things without the obligation of deadlines. But something is missing. Some ONE is missing. These are the days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve when we hunker down, have a daily wood-burning fire. When I play the carols in my old carol books and sing as I play. When Bob sits in the wingback chair, doing a crossword, poking the fire as needed, often singing along with me. If there’s snow I hear the shovel scrape the sidewalk, see him come in red- cheeked, puffing, hearty. The ache I feel is elemental. And I know, at times, it ever shall be until Heaven’s shores. Now I listen to Wintersong by Sarah McLachlan.

This is how I see you

in the snow on Christmas morning

Love and happiness surround you

As you throw your arms up to the sky

I keep this moment by and by

Oh I miss you now my love…

Wintersong by Sarah McLachlan