As I struggle to release the lovely chaos of Christmas while boxing the ornaments, Christmas miniatures, hearth greens, Santa collection and Christmas crèche, I take a deep breath and inhale the stillness of this cold, quiet January morning.
There was a time—when our children lived under our roof—when I dreaded the “let down” of January. I missed the hustle and bustle of shopping or crafting the just-right gifts for family and friends, the smell of baked goods to be shared with long-loved neighbors, unboxing the Christmas décor with the accompanying “oohs” and “aahs” from the children, and my husband and I taking them to ski the Colorado mountains. I also missed the bright wrapping on presents under the tree, the anticipation and excitement of our son and daughters, who were hoping-beyond-hope they would be gifted that certain item topping their wish list, the days when the house bulged with laughter of late-rising, school-freed children.
In those days, I braced myself against the quiet of January when the children went back to school, my husband returned to work and I was left alone with my annual January letdown.
As I’ve reached my late-middle age, January has taken on a new significance. I no longer designate it, along with February, as a month to be gracefully tolerated until the crocuses popping through the spring snows in my garden re-color my life.
January is now welcomed as a time for reflection, easy weekends with my husband and lunches with friends who have also come to appreciate the less-rushed time together that January offers. In place of after-Christmas letdown, I now take time to enjoy a hot cup of tea and a good book while curled up under my tartan coverlet, a gift from my husband, or consider in pleasant anticipation new places to travel when I can welcome warmer weather. I prepare oven meals that not only please our palates but also add warmth and aroma to the whole house. Everyday chores—washing, mending, organizing and running errands—are now accomplished at a slower, easier pace, giving my life the sense of quiet rhythm, routine and comfort I need when the temperature dips to frigid levels. How fortunate I am to have a home that embraces me with love and keeps me warm and safe.
I’m not the first to find January (and February) “less than” months. In fact, the original Roman calendar consisted of ten months (304 days)—winter being considered a month-less period. Around 713 BC, January and February were added, allowing the calendar to equal a standard lunar year of 364 days—evidently an afterthought even by the ancients. Just as it did in those times, January finally takes its rightful place in my life—equal in importance to the renewing springs, playful summers and colorful falls.

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