Winter solstice

Snagged from the internet

This week, those of us in the Northern Hemisphere will experience the longest night of the year, and the shortest day. In the Southern Hemisphere, of course, it's the opposite, due to the elliptical orbit of our planet around the sun. More information about this phenomenon is here. I find it fascinating and have personally experienced it for three-quarters of a century. Depending on where I have lived, the event is either negligible (when living close to the equator) or pronounced (as it is here so far north I'm almost at the Canadian border).

Sunset at 4:13pm and sunrise after 8:00am means our days are just over eight hours long. The sun barely comes up before it starts to set again, it seems. Of course, if I lived even farther north, there are places where the sun actually doesn't do much more than scrape the horizon before going down again. I cannot imagine living much farther north than I already do, but many people seem to thrive in such circumstances.

For me, the upcoming week will have both my second cataract surgery, and the winter solstice at 8:27am on Thursday. It's a day I would normally be hiking with my friends, but this week I'll be home recovering from what I hope is as successful a surgery as was the first, three weeks ago. I know I've said it before, but I still find it a miracle that my sight has improved so dramatically in my left eye. I really had given it up and thought it I was moving toward becoming slowly blind. But instead, although there is missing vision, the new IOC (intra-ocular lens) has made it possible for me to see again. I know I've been going on about this for awhile, but anyone who has been through it knows how miraculous it seems and knows why I can't stop myself. Now just one more miracle, please.

This year, SG and I will be doing little to celebrate the Christmas season. As we get older, it seems more and more like just another day, but really, it's a celebration of the return of the light, the birth of Jesus, and the celebration of Hanukkah. Probably a few more traditions I know little about, but it's a special time for most humans. I remember when I was a kid, Christmas Eve was just about the most magical night of the year, when Santa came to our home and put presents under the Christmas tree during the night as we slept. I can still remember those feelings, although it's been a long time since I've even had a tree. When Chris was little, I tried to make it as special for him as it had been for me.

Now he's gone, but Christmas still comes once a year, and the light returns as the days begin to lengthen, imperceptibly at first. By the end of January, I'll notice more light in the sky and soon I won't need a headlamp to light my way to the bus in the early morning hours. But that's looking too far ahead. I need to get through this week and recover from the eye surgery and find out what my new reality will be.

On Tuesday morning, when I wake and go through my morning routine, it will be different: I won't be able to have my tea with milk in it, because I will be expected to come to the surgery center with an empty stomach, and I'm told to consume only clear liquids that morning. I did find out that coffee (hardly clear) is considered legal. Thank goodness for that, since I'm more than a little addicted to caffeine. I'm not fond of the taste of tea without milk, because of the tannin, but I'll manage. I'll be too nervous to care much about it, anyway.

You'd think that since I've been through this once, I would be less anxious, but as we all know, just because something goes perfectly the first time, it doesn't mean it will be the same story the second time around. For one thing, my eye is different: the doctor told me I have a fairly significant astigmatism in my right eye and that, since I'm opting for myopic vision rather than distance, it "should" be okay, but even if it isn't, the astigmatism can be corrected with glasses. Fine. Whatever. What are my choices, anyway? I know so little about these issues, and research on the internet doesn't make me any wiser about what to do. I scared myself silly by researching cataract surgery before the first eye was done, and I'm just trying to keep myself at an even keel this time around.

Prayer and meditation seems to help more than anything else I've done. And frankly, I'm not the basket case I was before the first eye, because I am now familiar with the routine and I know I should be just fine. I felt well taken care of and in the hands of professionals. What more could anybody ask? (Well, maybe a good outcome, too.)

I am also very fortunate to have a wonderful partner who takes such good care of me when I'm sick or incapacitated. He has held my hand many times when I've been sick or recovering from something or other. I can't imagine how different my life would be without him, so right here, right now, I can express my gratitude for him and for our partnership. He shops for our groceries with my needs always in mind, and for that I am also grateful.

It's beginning to sound a little like a broken record, but I am also incredibly grateful for the community of friends I've gathered here in cyberspace. Fellow bloggers and interested family and friends are constantly present because of the world of the internet. It's become so ubiquitous that I forget, sometimes, how much I rely on it. I've got connectivity at home, in all the other places I hang out, and with the tap on the keys or a swipe of a finger, the world opens up to me. Now if that isn't miraculous, I don't know what is.

Euripides once said, "Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness." That's because in normal times, we take for granted that we are loved and cared for, and we shower others with care and concern when they are in need. I hope that we will remind each other that the darkness is temporary, and light will return once again. Also, don't forget to smile at that stranger on the street, because it might be the one light that makes the difference for him or her that day. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things and a wonderful and productive seven days.