How one bright moment broke through the darkness of winter
The winter seems neverending this year.
Though honestly, it might be every year.
When the first snow falls, it feels magical. I hunker down under blankets, imagining myself curled up on the couch with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and all the books. I get stars in my eyes about the beauty winter can bring.
But that magic fades fast. And it’s never quite as cozy in real life as it is in my head.
Instead, I’m yelling at the dogs to hurry up and pee while I shiver on the steps. I’m trudging through snow with soaked socks, brushing off my car while my fingers turn red and stiff. I stomp my boots, but the floor is always wet anyway. The skies are gray. The days feel bleak. We feel stuck inside, yet still forced to go out into the cold that settles deep in your bones.
In short? It sucks.
When it’s dark by 5:00, and you get home from work to pitch black skies, it feels like the best part of your day has already come and gone. You leave in the dark. You come home in the dark. And after a while, that’s just what winter feels like: dark, dark, dark. And cold. So very cold.
I find myself more easily irritated in the dead of winter. It’s easier to get sad, to feel anxious, to carry the weight of everything and everyone a little too heavily. And when spring finally breaks and the sun starts peeking through? It’s like someone comes along and lifts a hundred pounds from everyone’s shoulders.
This past month has been hectic. And I don’t do well with hectic. I get overwhelmed fast, but I push on anyway. I keep every plan, show up to every appointment, mark off the days in my planner like it’s my job. Even when I don’t want to. Especially then. I chase my goals, overbook my calendar, and force myself to keep going — and it all finally caught up to me last week.
Work was a lot. My schedule was packed. Every night felt full, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I complained about Jerry’s work hours again, said I needed more help in the evenings, said we never saw each other anymore. He asked how we were going to manage two babies in the fall. I didn’t know. I didn’t feel like anything was going to be okay.
Then, one afternoon at work, I was walking through the children’s room to grab a book. That room is all windows, and despite the brutal cold and blowing snow that day, the sun was shining through in that late-afternoon way. I knew I still had to drag myself to the gym. Knew I had to work another full day tomorrow — a Saturday, which meant my weekend was shot. Knew that next week was going to be just as packed, just as heavy. I knew, I knew, I knew… all the things weighing on me.
And yet.
The sunlight hit me in just the right way, and I stopped in my tracks. Just for a moment. I could feel the beginnings of a smile tug at my face. Nothing had changed — my life was still jammed with to-do lists and obligations. But something had shifted. A tiny click inside me, all because of the sun.
I went on my break and texted Jerry.
“I feel less stressed, all of a sudden,” I told him. “I’m feeling more positive. I know we’re going to be okay. You and me and our babies. We’ll all be okay.”
And he agreed.
I don’t know what it is about the sun, or spring, or the first real taste of what’s to come — but there’s something almost magical about that. Maybe even more magical than the first snow. I felt it last year, too. It almost makes the long, cold winter worth it — just to feel that sense of relief and joy when it’s finally over.
There’s something about it that whispers, hope. That says, you’re going to be okay.
And so I will be.
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