It was the Christmas vacation and life was good. It was a rainy/sleeting night. The water froze as it fell that evening. It left frozen water of glass,a danger for anyone out and about. I walked between your great grandmother and grandfather as we glided from our home toward my Uncles’ house. It was Christmas Eve. There were babies at my Uncles house and Santa needed to get presents wrapped in time for the morning .
There was a moment in the walk I remember trying to lock into my memory. I was walkig between my parents. There was the winter silence. We held each other trying not to stumble or slide. We held each other knowing there would not be other nights such as this. My mother and I sang Christmas songs and once my father joined in as well. I knew this was something special and not to occur again…
I can see with all that is mine that evening. I can see all that is mine. I can see what I want for others. From that night forward I carried this special night and held it dearly. It was a magical night. At my age it was a cross from being old or being young. That evening let me learn what love was. Love is family.
Everytime I read this book I think of that evening. I think of my parents (your great-grandparents) and the love they had for each other. I think of how much they enjoyed their family and how lucky I was to have these amazing parents. And yet what brings this alive is the quiet walk in the winter that comes to be in “Owl Moom.”