the longest night

As an adult, drifting away from the family in which I was raised and their tattered traditions (which drifted apart as we all did), I am not prone to celebrations. I don’t embrace holidays other than for their ability to break the monotony of the standard work week; I am always in favor of an extra day off. But I find myself drawn to the solstices, those rare but constant and dependable days of delicate balance. The longest night, the longest day, those moments at which the balance tips. Tomorrow will be a slight bit more day time. Tonight the night stretches on.

I take a moment to balance the solstice within me, to seek a tipping point inside myself towards the light.

The weight of the holidays is light on this darkest of nights, as there are no expectations coming from either family of origin. The meaning of solstice is only what I’ve made of it, alone, and while that is a lonely tradition, a lonely holiday, it is one that provokes no confusion at all. The absence of expectation is rare. The absence of wanting things to be other than they are is also rare.

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2 thoughts on “the longest night

  1. I feel my life unraveled, my daughter should be held much closer, my daughter lost to me, my desire to coo her in her mother’s womb a forever a tragedy. Many of my feelings validated so many decades later, the love of mother lingers on, torn and stripped by ideation adoption. My daughters whose bonds are not what they should be, my own gulf from pain, who knows the desire & longing for love of her mother, the love of a father’s daughter more richly secured. I loathe adoption, I loathe all its secrets and entitlements, its cruel deception. The gulf in everything permeates my life, I struggle to move closer to all who love me, and I am grateful that so many do love me. Thankyou for sharing. This lost father who so desires family preservation.

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