Winter Solstice

 
  

It's 12 years this month that The Ex and I split.

Yes, I asked him to leave in December. Nice timing, huh? But really, there's never a good time for these things, so December it was.

I hadn't thought about the darkness. How it descends the first three weeks of December and hovers like a mo' fo'.

My kids were 3, 6, and 10. Dinnertime was the hardest. For some reason, planning what to make, getting it ready and on the table, then sliding into the cleanup, homework, bath and bedtime ritual, seemed, for a long while, hopelessly overwhelming.

I had to find ways to let in the light.

I began collecting recipes, planning menus. Playing music at dinner. The kids took turns picking the CD's. One night might be West Side Story, the next, Britney Spears.

We'd raise the volume while everyone helped clear the table, even three year-old Daughter #2. Most nights we wound up dancing. I'd grab a kid and jitterbug. Or tango. Daughter #1 would tap. It was amazingly therapeutic.

Still, the darkness hovered.

I stole an idea from some woman's magazine on celebrating the winter solstice, the shortest, darkest day of the year. I planned carefully.

Each older child was allowed to invite one friend. We lit a fire and ate dinner (homemade pizzas they topped themselves) by candlelight.

Everyone had to pick a poem from one of our many books of children's poetry. Preferably one about winter or the dark or the light. But any one would do. Each child read their poem at the table by the light of the candle flames. I read Daughter #2's. Then one I wrote myself.

I'm not sure if they got it. But they listened to me, to each other, respectfully. Suddenly kids were begging to read "one more" poem. Then another.

"We celebrate because today we've made it through the darkest day of the year," I told them. "Every day after this, the sun will move a little bit closer, and there will be a little more light. The days will grow longer and longer. Right up until the first day of summer."

It became a tradition. Each year: a friend, candles, poetry. I worried there might be some grumbling in high school. Instead, 16 year-old boys shrugged, decided to stay for dinner, and pored through books, looking for a poem.

Some of those other traditions that pulled me through survive to this day. Whenever all three kids are home, they still take turns picking our dinner music. And we frequently find ourselves dancing during cleanup.

And yes, it's still amazingly therapeutic.

 

Comments

[SuziCate]

Traditions are wonderful, and you're right music is therapeutic. You are an awesome mom! Your children will have such memories to cherish!

[PLRH]

What a wonderful tradition! I love the idea of celebrating the Winter Solstice. You know your children will continue this tradition with their own children some day.

[Erin@TheLocalsLoveIt]

I love traditions! I've always wanted to celebrate the Solstice's. This sounds like a really great way to do so. Thanks for the great post.

[Ocean Girl]

People told me, a marriage ends. Either by death or by divorce. And they told me, I guess to offer some comfort, that separation by death is easier than divorce. I do not know if that is true but I can feel and imagine that subtle but black gloom that would just not go away.

Your stories always remind me of movies and this one I imagine you and the children singing and dancing to No Mountain High Enough :)

[Jill]

Sounds like a wonderful tradition. When is the Winter Solstice this year? Or has it already passed?

I was planning on leaving my first husband...and then he caught the damn flu! I had to take care of him for a week before I could leave...then off I went with my boots, my cat and dog.

[Lynn]

The winter solstice was the day my grandmother started to cheer up. She absolutely HATED winter. We'd always bring her a celebration card and a treat that day. I love how you try to make some sort of light in the darkness, and how what sprung out of a difficult place has become a tradition enjoyed by your family. Wonderful.

[Diane]

what a perfect way to observe winter solstice! I find myself counting down the days too, looking for the return of sunlight to the earth.

[LPC]

I can imagine this scene in a movie. A wonderful movie. Maybe, um, that actress with red hair, Julianne Moore playing you. She'd be acting at the upper end of her emotional registry. The pauses would be as much of the scene as the music and poetry.

[Erin]

I love this. I think I need to start this at my house. It has been waaaaaayyyy too dark for the past two days in my home.

The boy and I could use some therapeutic traditions. Ack.

[Vincent]

The one thing about today, the light starts to return. Between now and the next time we tend to focus outside in ten or so days time the evenings are pushing that little bit back. Is it not amasing though that Newgrange is so little known and Stonehenge by everyone under the Sun even though Newgrange is by far the older.

[Sprite's Keeper]

Lovely tradition, what a way to let in the light!

[Pseudo]

You have the coolest traditions.

[Ginger]

That is a beautiful idea for a tradition. I wish I had thought of it when my Ex and I split. But it's so good, I may try to steal it for my grandchildren when they're older! I love poetry, and the end of darkness is a wonderful thing to celebrate.

[Mama Badger]

It's wonderful that you can share your poetry with your kids. There just something about a good poem, writing one, reading one, that feels good.

Glad you were able to see the light at the end of the short days...

[kathryn]

Lovely post, as always Maureen.

After I posted (also on solstice) I saw your post title. Of course, our posts are completely different!

I love your attitude about every day allowing a little more light...this is fabulous!

Winter Solstice is like a Wednesday...you just breathe a little easier knowing you've nowhere to go but up!

Now, let's dance-

[Kate]

What a great tradition and solution to a tough time! Way to cheer yourself and your kids up!

[Jason]

Fantastic. Instead of letting the darkness win, you won the darkness.

I hadn't thought about today being the Winter Solstice. It's all brighter from here on out!

[Twenty Four At Heart]

What a wonderful tradition. I always look forward to the longer days too. I wouldn't do well in a northern state ... I like the light!

[Geri Brin]

it sounds comforting, warm and filled with love. I admire you as a mom.

Geri

[Jenn @ Juggling Life]

What a wonderful tradition you came up with--lifetime memories for sure.

[Gropius]

What a VERY cool tradition. I love the symbolism in special days. Thanks for sharing!

[Nina]

Beautiful tradition...whatta mom!

[Sandi]

Because of a bad snowstorm, our Fellowship is celebrating the Winter Solstice tomorrow evening. I can't wait.

[~The South Dakota Cowgirl~]

What a great tradition! There are times when I'd love to have more traditions and create more traditions, but when you do what we do for a living, each day is seldom like the next; there's something to be fed, or moved or a new chore to be done. Until that changes, I'll just live vicariously through your traditions. You know what else I think is great- that your kids, were ok with it- so many kids today are just not down with something ifthey don't deem it cool. You are an awesome mom!

[Heather]

What a wonderful thing to do! Here in this house hubby picks the tv show! LOL! I would love to try to incorprate music into dinner.

[Rabbityblog.blogspot.com]

Oh I love this tradition and am so borrowing it for my own Solstice celebration next year! I wish I would have come across this earlier. It never much feels very Solsticey here (today - in Texas - the sun is givin' its all and it's to be 70 degrees!), so it's always nice to find new ways to celebrate.

[Jane]

Wow. Such a powerful story. And an amazing tradition that came of it. What a great idea!

[Picture Imperfect]

Maureen... I think this post has a virus attached because it made my eyes water up and my nose get all sniffly!

Very sweet and touching. I like it when you write about your family. Thanks for sharing! :o)

[kys]

A beautiful tradition and a beautiful piece of writing. I'll bet your children will do this with their kids someday.

[Casey]

I love this. Well, not the part about the loneliness but the togetherness. We play music and sing and dance as we get dinner ready and then sing our way though the meals. When the kids aren't screaming, that is.