When the final leaves have fallen and the cold northern winds set in, autumn turns to winter as is always must. Life is relentless like that.

The aging patriarch claims his title to widowhood after the death of his wife of 56 years. While he knows she is finally at peace, he nonetheless feels a void, like a page turned yet not fully read. So many things seem left unsaid.

He often finds himself in the predawn hours awake and unable to sleep. Do not burden yourself with compassion, or worry cast, for these are his quiet hours to reflect on his days, present and past.

The holiday season is near, Thanksgiving and Christmas are cherished memories but his role seems different now. A subtle change, but the family host is now the guest of a new generation. The tree smaller, the decorations less grand, the spirit diminished; a new season at hand.

Oh how grand it would be to sit before that old Christmas tree. With a wood fire burning in the yuletide hearth, a picture that still warms the widower’s heart.

When the holidays recede into yesterday as they always must and winter reaches it’s bitter peak, time stands still for many who dream of unimaginable possibilities for their lives. A new year, a new beginning, a new day for young husbands and wives.

The days fly by without meaning, barely remembered by the elderly man. The dials on the clock of life spin faster and faster with advancing years at hand. You too will feel life passing faster in the days of your golden years.

I am that aging man, finding peace with the widower’s lot. I take each day as a blessing, grateful to still read that racing clock.