Auld Acquaintance

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Holidailies 2004December 22, 2004
Wednesday
 
There’s a certain Slant of light
Winter afternoons —
That oppresses . . .
               — Emily Dickinson, 1830-1883
                   American poet
It’s fully winter now, at least by the standards of astronomy. The solstice has passed, and we’re in that time when the oblique angle of the sun’s rays — that certain slant of light — makes for chilly days and gray skies. In my experience, there’s something of a golden glow, almost certainly psychological, that imbues the last days of December. Ancient people developed solstice celebrations to mark their joy that the sun was now getting higher in the sky, but modern poet Linda Pastan has written about “all the vacancies of January ahead.” Our most severe weather usually doesn’t come until February.

Today was almost another “beak under the wing” day. Just before 6:00 a.m. I made a decision not to go to the annual Christmas breakfast at the school where I taught. It starts at 6:30 (normal arrival time for staff is 7:15) and features a really nice buffet of French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and bagels. Retirees are guests of the active faculty. I left in the spring of 1998 and attended that year, and the next, and, I think, two more. The last time I was there I noticed that there were more faces I didn’t recognize than those I did. I sat down at a table with two active teachers to whom I had been fairly close, or at least had spent a lot of time with. They said hello and then went on with their conversation about scheduling problems caused by a snow delay as if I were not even there.

In the years since, my closest friends have also retired or left for other situations. When I walked out for the paper early this morning the wind hit me in the face and the darkness seemed impenetrable. I brought the garage door down behind me as I came back in the house and spent the day at home.

I did go out in the evening, however, to a party hosted by the man who was my closest friend and confidante at school. He left the year before I did to go to another school, and I missed him terribly that year I served without him. Since he didn’t retire from our mutual district (he calls himself an escapee) he’s not invited to the breakfast. His gathering always includes the people I was closest to, the people I don’t see anymore at the early morning gathering.

The invitation had described the event as a cocktail party with the hours set from 5:00 to 7:00. The old circle of friends, however, lingered, trading memories and feeling again the joy we always took in each other. It was nearly nine when I walked out into the crisp clear night. It was the last official nonfamily event of the season for me, and I enjoyed it. I just hope it’s not another year until I see them all again.

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