Patches of Light

I love winter mornings.  They are so still.  In the absence of  bird song , the day is born in silence.  Now, the mornings sparkle, for frost covers the territory and any sound at all seems to crack the air.  The trees shine their beautiful truth, in the first light. Now they hold no secrets.  The older I get, the more I value truth-good or bad -truth liberates the soul.  It really does “set one free”, as it is written.   
Now the time of Christmas wanes like an old moon.  I will celebrate til January 6th, for I love  “old Christmas” and somehow commemorating the visit of the wise men , seems a fitting and natural conclusion  to such a  glorious, time as Christmas.   Now, like everyone else, we had a different sort of Christmas, this year.  We settled for visits, instead of the usual large gathering, on Christmas night.  After the trip to Raleigh, Mama and I spent a day in Elizabeth City with Will, Jenny and my beloved little girls, Brynn and Lyla.   
The grandaughters were brimming with anticipation,of Sanats’ visit.  Lyla was practicing her best behavior, so that the elves had nothing to tattle about.  Mama and I toured  their new home.  It is a beautiful and sensible home-and within walking distance of the “laughing river”.  How grateful I was, to see this blessing for them, first hand.   What contentment welled up in my heart and I prayed for the home to be filled with goodness and mirth. 
 The day passed too quickly and while Brynn dozed in her mothers’ arms, Mama and I headed home.

A few short days later, my sisters and I were at Mamas’ house.  We tried as best as could to divert ourselves from the great sorrow of not having Daddy with us.  In some way, I had dreaded  the affair altogether, Knowing we could not deny, that we all had this grief in common, the prospect of any merriment, seemed impossible . . .but I was wrong.   We had a lot more in common, than grief. We had  Mama and each other.  We had the same elders and shared the same memories.  We loved each others’ children . . .and so there was great solace in that.
I spent Christmas eve at Mamas’ house.  On Christmas day, Tres, Sarah, Kyle and Christian came.  Mama and I had prepared a meal and so this day was much better than Thanksgiving. It was fun cooking together and it was wonderful to wait together, for everyones’ arrival. 
Outside, the coldest wind of the year blew, fiercely.  The  little community was quiet, other than the howling of that wind. Hardly a car drove by, for covid was in the neighborhood.  Several families were in quarantine and had to cancel any prospect of celebrating together. A beloved neighbor was fighting for his life . . and losing.  His wife was home alone and had to rely on phone calls from the doctors to know anything about her husband.  She never got a bit of good news.  Each call was worse than the one before it. The final call came on Christmas night.  Our dear friend left us the next morning. 
This man was but a few years, older than me and every bit as active.  In the thirty years, we knew him,no one has ever had a bad thing to say about him.  As far we are all concerned, he left with a “clean slate” . . .and that says volumes. 
 If death, does not make us think about living . .then I suppose nothing will. No matter  what you believe happens after death, this life counts.  What we do with it matters.  In youth, man dreams big and with a lot of determination.  We are often convinced then, that we will change this world and therefore leave our mark in some spectacular way.  One way or another, we all end up in the same “rat race”.  Some acquire more stuff than others . . .some acquire prestige . . some have some sort of power.  I guess, it all comes down to whatever mission we select. 
Thankfully, circumstances prevail, that  allow us to reevaluate and help us define our priorities with a  more seasoned precision .  We  continue making these wonderful discoveries, of who we are.  What we truly love  is out “front and center”!  It comes to light and may even shock us, though it was there all along.   . .likewise, our undesirable traits.  Suddenly, you at last know yourself and this is the one mission, we all really share -and the one that matters most of all, I think.  Our path is sacred, twisted, shadowed and  how sweet those patches of light.  Ever so often, a truth,  our  truth, leaps out, shining like a beacon or . .  like an awful rock to fall over.  Either way, we are the better, for the light-and the rocks, too.   
 I had several more revelations, during this quiet Christmas.  Each one seemed like  a Christmas gift, of sorts, but I will write about them at the more timely New year event, when most people do consider such things. 

Mama will spend New Year in Raleigh and tomorrow, I leave for Elizabeth City.  Brant and Sydney should arrive tomorrow evening.  I  have  never been sentimental about  celebrating the new year.  . .but I am sentimental about seeing my children and grandchildren.   . . after all. they are “my patches of light”.




15 thoughts on “Patches of Light

  1. You could have done many other things with that light within you. You could have done nothing with it.
    But you chose to share it.
    Even in the poverty of grief and despair, of fear and doubt, how much the richer we are for the light you chose to share.
    Merry Christmas, Michele. May God bless you.


  2. How sad to lose someone on Christmas! We buried John’s mother on Christmas Eve in the morning and were all in church that night — one on the organ bench, and most of the others in the choir. She would have approved.

    Thanks for writing about your family, those who have all become precious to me.

    Happy New Year!


    Liked by 1 person

  3. Dear Rabbit:

    One day soon I will be able again to compose fitting comments.
    In the meantime, know that these dispatches from the rabbit patch are among the patches of light in my life for which I am grateful.



    Liked by 2 people

  4. Michele, we had a death of a loved one too, days before Christmas which made Christmas that much more dear. What you wrote about truth and who we are, really struck home. I read your words several times for much wisdom is contained within them. This Journey called Self-Realization, is at times so painful but other times the patches of light are truly magnificent. I believe this year is the beginning for so many to really begin seeing who they are stripped of all the worldly trappings that told them who they were. I began that Journey a long time ago. To be wrought to nothing only to be built up in a new way, is something I wouldn’t trade for anything in this world. I really was touched by your post and I thank you for your honesty and your gentleness. Thank you.


  5. I’m so sorry about your neighbor! You have endured a lot of loss this year, and I can’t imagine how hard that must be. But I’m glad that you celebrated Christmas with family and that you recognize the shining lights still in your life. And I agree that we keep learning more about ourselves and our world as we grow…and that is a gift for sure. Happy New Year, my friend!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Faye, I do not understand, how I “work less” but am always behind on something! I am so late on saying so, but I miss you and love you as much as ever. May you have plenty of “patches of light” in this new year-and new world. love Michele

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Totally understand that! I keep meaning to get back to blogging and then life gets in the way. I do try to catch up on at least reading and commenting but I am not sure either how come I just can’t seem to get it done.

        Liked by 1 person

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