We had our first snow yesterday, while I was sitting at my work station in the External Affairs office. By the time I was walking to the bus stop to head home, flakes were as big as quarters; a layer of ice was sticking my (waterlogged) boots to the sidewalk. I was ecstatic.
I’m not a snow bunny. I’m not any kind of bunny. I hate winter. I hate wind. I hate sunburns. I can find a way to complain about most weather. I was confused, standing in line for the bus and realizing that I was loving everything about the snow.
Then I realized. My mind was somewhere else. Along a cobblestone street, my arm linked around my husband’s elbow as we headed home or to a dinner with friends or to dog-sit for our first Christmas as a married couple. I was on the streets of Nancy.
Sitting at home as the sun went down, snow was still falling. Our tiny Christmas tree had its tiny lights glowing. I felt like I was in that space between sleeping & waking, the space where you hear all that’s going on around you but none of it really touches you, the space where one slight movement makes you feel like you’re falling off of the edge toward nothing. My eyes went blurry & unfocused as I stared at the lights & played back through the holidays of our tiny apartment.
This morning, I wanted to share my most precious moments here. A sort of early Christmas card for you.
I’m now anxious to click back through all of our pictures from last year & get them printed, some tangible manifestation of my recent daydreaming. I’m anxious for classes to end & holiday rushes to take the place of rushing to finish assignments.
I’m anxious, after a dinner with the family of a dear friend last night that reminded me of so many holiday dinners, to spend these holidays with our family–and the friends that have been folded into my family–this year. I suppose it is nice not to be 4,000 miles away this time of year…