12-11-23

It's dark outside. 

It's been dark for nearly two hours.

Bedtime is still two hours away.

One daughter is jumping off the stairs.

The other daughter is riding roller skates.

Inside.

At least they are not crying. 

The husband will not be home until dark thirty like my dad used to say.

Nights like this can close in and make it hard to breath.

Sometimes, I wrap up in a blanket and sit on the porch. 

In the dark. 

In the cold. 

My lungs gulp air.

Other nights, I pick up my journal and page back.

To last December.

Last November.

The words I read mirror the words I write today.

And it gives me so much hope. 

This is just a cycle.

This is the hard part. 

It feels like the darkness won.

But even now, the light is coming.

Can you feel it?

(In ten days, the light will start to creep back. Slowly. We will keep lighting candles.)