Here we are, on the other side of the Big Days. The twinkle lights are still on, we're still eating cookies, we're still singing Christmas music.
As much as I enjoyed the Big Days themselves, the Day After was as perfect as perfect could be. A big snow storm, branches laden with sparkling white frosting, and a little boy who loved his hot chocolate with marshmallows. A silent street, a warm blanket, and some homemade pasta with pumpkin cream sauce. It was quiet.
I love how the snow absorbs noise, how the only sounds become the crunch crunch of pint-sized boots, and the giggles of little person who has just thrown a snowball.
When I was a little girl I remember how I used to dread the Day After. Everything I had looked forward to with grand anticipation had come and gone, and there I was, with nothing to look forward to other than my March birthday - a distant future indeed for a seven year-old.
Yet, as an adult, I don't feel that Day After let-down anymore. Instead, it has become a treasured day for the doing of absolutely nothing, which is certainly a balm for a busy soul. The Day After is an extended exhale, a letting-go of to-do lists, anxieties, and expectations. It was good.
