Out of the Deepest Dark of the Year ~ Solstice

Out of the deepest dark of the year comes Solstice, the perfect stop in the hot and cold tango of earth and Sun.

One year ago, on the evening of Solstice, my father passed at twilight. My last gift to him was to be with him in the hours during which he struggled bravely in the physical effort of giving birth to his own death. His gift to me in that moment was a flock of silent birds flying into the setting sun. The doctor was soon to tell me that my father had passed during those few minutes when I had finally gone outside for a break.

This year my father has returned as two feet of snow, a perfect blanket over the land he looked out upon in those last few moons of his life. He was almost eighty-one.

This blog is dedicated to my dad, and is filled with love stirred into the warm egg custard not yet made for him.

Merry Christmas. May we share the love with the living.

Little Big Man, 1970