The Bitter & Sweetness of December


This morning, in the middle of a cold walk with the dog, I begin to feel anxious. It hit me as if those feelings came with a passing breeze.

The kind of feeling that you know something doesn’t feel quite right and well, it hasn’t for the past 10 years.

At the beginning of December, 10 years ago, my grandfather passed away.

I remember the morning of his funeral there was snow on the ground. It seems as if snow alone has a calmness to it, at least for me. I ventured out into the back woods and trails of my grandparent’s property with my film camera. I remember taking photos of the sun through the snow covered trees and drawing a heart in the snow on a bench. That film is long gone now.

Up a winding mountain road, a line of cars followed each other to the cemetery. I was adamant about driving my own car with just my sister riding with me. Those mountain roads always made me car sick and sometimes you just need time away from other people. Even just a few quiet moments.

I don’t remember most of the day beyond the funeral, just mostly the feeling of that time. And shortly after the sixth of December passes, I find the anxiety passes and I don’t linger on those feelings too long.

I don’t dread December or the snow. I don’t look at red roses any differently after seeing them at my grandfather’s funeral. I take December for what it is and digest what I need to in moments.

There is a sweetness that comes from December and even one that comes from my grandfather’s end of battling cancer.

There are good days and there are bad days. It’s those good days we must hang on to.