Facing the dark – entering the deep of the year…

I grew up in the Midwest. There, the darkest times of the year also heralded the beginning of the coldest times of the year.  Now, since I have had the pleasure of living in a Mediterranean climate for many years, I hope for rain to quench the dry land as winter approaches, I watch with interest the days grow shorter, and I watch the final red of sunset linger over the Bay, sink down beyond San Francisco into the Pacific.

*

Here in Germany to visit friends and to visit Christmas Markets – the Germans know very well how to do Christmas! – I am reminded of how the darkness shapes this season, and I remember the Festival of Lights that is Christmas, and the lighting of candles that honor Hanukkah, fall always during these darkest days. Here in Germany, darkness comes on early as the temperature hovers just above freezing.

As I walk through the Christmas Markets of Regensberg this year, I see the same trinkets again and again, and sometimes, a treasure shines out from the rest, and I stop at a tent covered booth to look closely. Will this be a good gift for Joanne, I think? Can I carry this lovely toy in my suitcase without breaking it?

Christmas music playing from speakers hidden somewhere in the eaves of the buildings that circle the Market adds to the festive flavour of the season. Sometimes, the cold air sweeps me away again to those dark December evenings in the Midwest, marching over snow covered ground to select the perfect tree from a well-lit city lot, the perfect tree that Dad carries back to the car and fastens securely with a rope for that purpose, into the trunk. Then, I’m back in Regensberg, as quickly as I left, turning round and round to see where Jeff has wandered, knowing he enjoys the music and cold and darkness and even the crowds, as much as I do.

Yesterday, I learned that Bill, the widower of my good friend Sue who died so young, Bill, who made her so happy, has passed. Melancholy and memory seem to go well with the cold and the Christmas music.

Still, the holidays are here with their mixture of merry and melancholy. When I return home, after Jeff and I select our own tree from a lot in the city, I’ll sit across from the sparkling lights with a cup of egg nog, I’ll remember all those I love who are gone now, who I hold in my heart in the reflection of the lights.

Christmas-time in Wien, Austria. Photo by Mary Elyn Bahlert, 12/2024