The Old North Bridge

It was an abnormally warm December day today, around the 50s, I'd guess. No snow, sad for my Natalia, but a perfect day to explore the Old North Bridge in Concord. 

I wonder if there are any ghosts wandering the fields of the Old North Bridge? Even though the temps were rising, there was still the echo of a winter chill in the air, enough to bite the cheeks as we walked  over the paths that the colonial minutemen must have taken on that terrible day in April oh those many years ago. 

It was nice to get out of the house to walk off our heavy post-holiday meals. I'm so very happy to have my mother and father visiting with me. These holidays are so, so hard without my sister. Sometimes, I feel as if laughter was far way, on a different planet even. When my parents visit, it returns, and I can laugh long and loud. Laughter that is deep, that fills the room and echoes throughout the house. 

It was also good to get out for a bit as I've been staying cooped up playing through Jonathan Boakes terrifically spooky Dark Fall games. I've been creeped out, of course, but also inspired to explore the history-soaked places that I live so close to. I had so much fun playing around with filters for the photos that I took on my very old iPhone. I hope to get better with time.

Season of Memories

I seem to only write in this blog around the holidays. Perhaps it's because it's during these times, which should be so happy and filled with joy, that memories, both dark and light, spring to mind. Today was a long and lazy day. Fat snowflakes fell soft and cold only to melt as soon as they touched ground. I spent most of the day cleaning and wrapping presents. It's a day that I should have gone with Mike to his family Christmas party, but I just couldn't bring myself to go. I miss my sister so much during these times, it takes my breath away, and I'm forever on the verge of crying.

When we were younger, there was an intensity to our anticipation for this holiday -- we would call the time; we'd pick up the phone to call an automated voice speaking out the hour to the minute. At our house, we got to wake up at midnight to open up not just one, but all of our presents. It felt so decadent, to be up so late, and so joyous. The minute that voice said midnight, together, Julie and I would bound out of our room and race to rip the wrapping paper off of our presents. There we would sit satisfied and happy amid curls of festive paper and torn up cardboard.

Ah, Julie. You would have loved the holiday season in New England. The sky today was thick and gray and heavy as it released it's fat flakes. I walked outside to feel the crisp air on my skin, only to feel my cheeks tingle when I got back into my warm, snug house. Lights and decorations on the houses here make so much more sense, as they twinkle and warm up the cold dark winter evenings.