I keep thinking about snow. It's a bit hard not to, considering... but it makes me remember. It makes me remember trying to figure out how to sled with Mandie and not hit trees in the park. How I lived across the street from it, so we could run and get hot chocolate after - which is strangely satisfying when you're frozen. Not just for the obvious warmth, but the familiarity, the comfort. The homelike quality. Winter reminds me of nights sitting by the window, watching the snow falling and glittering as the world sleeps, entranced. Of faded traditions and better times that we work so hard to reclaim now. It makes me think about how far I've come from the person that I was, and about the person that I want to be. It makes me think about how I'm proud of the things I'm doing for myself and for others, and hope that one day all misunderstandings can be laid aside and I can help as many people as I can. It makes me think about snowball fights and tiny snowmen on the railing, sledding off the porch and the Festival of Lights. Of curling up in the back seat of the car with Mandie, half asleep, pointing at various lights and convincing each other that THIS one is Santa. Of Christmas Eve parties where we thought of nothing but the happiness that children have and seeing the tropical fish at Uncle Joey's house was the epitome of fascination. Of laying in front of the tree and squinting my eyes so the lights blur, watching them sparkle and shine in random patterns and thinking it was the best feeling in the world; smelling the fresh pine, curled up warm on the floor, safe and excited about the days to come.
I still do that at times... the things I did when I was a child. The things that bring me closer to family and friends. The things that make me forget the world exists, as there is nothing past simple enjoyment.
And I dream of snow-covered trees, glittering flakes falling in the night, and I know that all is well.