Frost-Bound Nostalgia

From the sky, soft snowflakes fall

And I return to my home’s call.

Snow prickles my skin, the frozen air bites,

I arrive and gaze at the road,

No smoke from the chimney showed.

Unlike what I see at other houses,

Grandma’s house is still, surrounded by fog.

The shutters on windows are closed tight,

No rooster announces my arrival,

No dog jumps happily to greet me,

There’s no more cat to bring a trophy mouse

They all died.

And at grandma’s kitchen, in the back,

The windows are frozen in their track!

I look down… I look up,

And weep, for all has flown,

Nothing’s as it was before,

As I remembered it of old!

Each time I come back home,

I visit her house and I feel she is with me

I feel more and more alone,

Since I’ve been away so far, moved abroad,

Time has stolen all that we are…

From the sky, white snowflakes fall,

Each unique, hush, singing of memories

And it’s snowing in my heart as well,

And in my eyes, half-closed tight,

I feel the tears frozen in sight!

I look at the latch on the gate,

And my thoughts back navigate,

To times when, on holidays bright,

Carol singers sang in the night!

Evening settles over the village,

At grandma’s house gate, I stand,

The iron latch stuck, the paint came off,

Even though I know quite well,

There’s no one to let me in,

It always feels surprising,

And my thoughts will always be with her,

Each Christmas, each holiday, forever more.

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Author's note: My grandma’s house was always warm, the fire in the hearth. It stayed with me forever. It used to bring me a warm sense of comfort and well-being that went beyond mere physical heat. The crackling fire on a cold winter’s day meant we would have hot soup in earthen bowls filled with delicious root veggies from the garden, kept well in the sand in the cellar during winter. Carol singers would come to the iron gate, and we would glue our faces to the windows to watch them with candles in their hands, singing Halleluja and local songs.

My grandma passed away 11 years ago, and I still cannot imagine Christmas without her as bright and warm as it was. These days we try to make Christmas special for our kids, to bring some magic around the holidays. But the magic for me was being with my grandparents and together with the whole family. Part of me left with them, and I still hold on to the grief. The song below evokes my emotions with the music.

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* I originally published this poem here.*

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