The NightsA Story by Kathryn SmithOne day you'll leave this world behind so live a life you will remember these are the nights that never die my father told me... It's that time of year again. When the holidays are over and the world is back to it's usual self. When the view outside is lifeless and colorless. And Wisconsin is numbingly cold. So cold that when you're in bed at night missing someone, you'll never be warm. It's cold when you wake up. Cold when you step outside. Cold when you drive in your car. and coldest after getting out of a shower of heated bliss. Cold. Cold.
The snow blows across the road like ghosts haunting and taunting me. They seem to say ha ha! You can't drive like you could before! You can't do anything. No dashing through the forest. No smelling the bright and happy flowers. No jogging around the neighborhood. No grass under your wiggling tiny toes. No sitting on your roof to star gaze. No soaking up the sunshine and no warmth for you! You'll slip and fall on the ice You'll sink in the snow. You'll freeze from your head to your toes.
Yet I always have a twinge of hope. St Patrick's Day is on the horizon. One of my favorites! It has always been an important holiday in my family, but the reason why isn't what you'd think. We celebrate our Irish roots yes, but we also celebrate and honor something else. When my grandmother was pregnant she went to use the bathroom one day. (Like most pregnant women do.) Suddenly a tiny foot came out and the ambulance was called. The ambulance driver later congratulated my grandfather. "A baby boy Mr. Spoerl!" Later at the hospital, the ambulance driver congratulated my grandfather again. "A baby boy!" My very puzzled Grandfather told the ambulance driver he already told him earlier. "There's another one Mr. Spoerl, you have twins!" The second baby that was born was my father. No one knew my grandmother was expecting twins.
Despite his disease, Jerry was a happy boy. He couldn't do very much, but my father often played with him. He was always happy by his side. Eventually when Jerry was older, he was put into a home where he was taken good care of. On March 17th my 15 year old father came home from school to find out his twin brother passed away. and ever since, for many years, my family has always held an enormous Irish dinner party to celebrate and honor Jerry. Music is played, soda bread is made, drinks are enjoyed and there is always so much gratitude. Even in the nights when I'm cold, I have to keep my head up. I think of my father who felt a different kind of cold. A terrible cold that I have felt too. I wish I could go back in time and be there for the boy who lost his brother. I would tell him that everything would be alright, because the strength he didn't quite know he had yet, would be carried on and given to his daughter. Without the cold how would we know warmth? Without death how would we know and treasure life? Even when the world seems like an awful unloving, and disappointing place, there is always a flower that will bloom. The sun still rises each day and even when we cannot see them, the stars are still there. St Patrick's day to my family is a celebration of thankfulness and love. And that is what brings the most warmth. Love is always there. Even when you're gone. But since it fell into my lot That I should rise and you should not
© 2016 Kathryn SmithAuthor's Note
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