Silent Snowfall

Grandma Stella cherishes a quiet moment as snowflakes fall gently outside, reminiscing about her late husband, Peter, and their joyful times together. Despite the holiday season’s bittersweet memories, she feels grateful for the cherished years they shared.

Little chubby snowflakes are beginning to earnestly settle on the tree branches and the top of the fence. The house is quiet except for the steady tic toc of my old clock and the faint sound of my classical music coming from the bedroom radio. I am looking out of the kitchen window at the snow gently coming down.

I am sipping my tea and thinking that if Peter were alive, how he would have enjoyed this moment. We would both be looking out of the window as we sipped our tea. I would have made him a steaming bowl of porridge with apples, walnuts, and bananas laced with honey and cinnamon and hot milk. How he loved that. How I miss him. Holiday times are the hardest. But I mustn’t grumble, for I was lucky enough to share my life with him all those wonderful, joyful years. What a wonderful marriage we had. How blessed we were.

A lone person hurried by, with head down to avoid getting snow in his face. He is all bundled up against the cold. I guess he is rushing to work.

My pups are fast asleep upstairs, cuddled up in their blankets. They are smart, who wants to be about in weather like this if they do not have to. But I have got to get on with my day.

On I go.