Holiday Storms
I drove out to my parents’ place this week for Christmas, five hours from home with all the usual holiday logistics spinning in my head. Coordinating schedules, making sure everyone could be in the same place at the same time, the weight of trying to make it all work. It’s exhausting before you even arrive.
Christmas Eve, I tried to let that go. Just be there. Sit with my family, be present instead of managing everything. It’s harder than it sounds, but I needed it.
Christmas Day I drove to drop off Luka and Teo. That particular drive, that handoff: it never gets easier. You do it because you have to, but it definitely sits heavy.
Then a storm hit. What was supposed to be a few inches turned into nearly a foot of snow, and suddenly my dad and I were out stacking firewood he’d been meaning to get to. Thirty-plus years he’s been heating that house with wood. Thirty-plus years of this same rhythm: split it, store it, stack it, burn it. Winter after winter.
There’s something steadying about that kind of work. Physical, simple, necessary. After all the emotional logistics of the holiday, it was exactly what I needed. Just move wood; get it done. No complicated feelings, just the task in front of you.
I grabbed some footage while we worked, talked to my dad, and put together this short piece about it:
Sometimes the simplest things are what ground you when everything else feels like too much.
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