Posted by: carolyn / through a widow's eyes | January 23, 2011

in the bleak midwinter

My birthday falls at the end of January, in the deepest darkest depth of winter.

Once upon a time, long, long ago, back when I was married, on my birthday I arrived home from a long and difficult workday to be greeted at the door by my smiling husband, holding out a wine glass and wreathed in the delicious smells of dinner – roasting chicken and tangy cheese and onions and herbs. And the table was set with a pretty cloth and and the good dishes, and dazzling with many, many lit candles all shapes and sizes, and the house was brimming full with pots of vibrant colorful primroses.

Their cheery brightness, the saturated hues of scarlet and magenta and gold, are the perfect antidote to winter’s dark and cold. Even their velvety crinkled leaves are the richest possible green. The sturdy little plants that will bloom even through snow bring a hint that spring will indeed come. We just need to be patient and believe.

I was amazed at the splendor he had created, and the extravagance of his gesture. He told me that he had been on a mission at the big box hardware store and primroses were 10 for $10. He knew how much I love flowers and crave their freshness and fragrance, especially in deep midwinter. So he chose the best and brightest, and filled a shopping cart with them.

God, I miss him.

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Responses

  1. He sounds like such a loving and expressive man. I hope that you can find his voice and couple it with yours to give yourself a lot of love on your birthday…

    Happy Birthday, honey!

    Like

  2. The desire to do things to please me…years into our marriage…was so special…I know how you feel…Don was a romantic, the flowers, the wine, the cooking…when I think about it to much I feel a hollowness inside…

    Like

  3. Selfish me…I was thinking about my loss so much…I forgot to say…have the Happy Birthday he would have wanted for you….

    Like

  4. I get this.

    Like


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