I Remember January 6th (My Daughter’s 20th Birthday)
I was on my first date on January 6, 2020, walking in Stinson Beach with a lovely singer who I broke up with five days before he decided he didn’t love me. We were less than an hour before our day, we were surprised with some sadness when we saw many blue fish littered on the sand, when someone from my family sent me a message about the rebellion.
“Is it a sign?” asked my date. I wasn’t sure if he meant the dead prisoners or the attack on our nation’s capitol building, but I could tell by his tone that he didn’t interpret it as good a symbol.
And it was my daughter’s 14th birthday. Born 6/6/06 at 6lbs 6oz. My Christian mother was afraid that she might become a child of the devil. But his angelic sweetness convinced us that the six were just meant for each other.
When I realized that his birthday would go down in our history books, the way September 11 did, I felt sad for him. It’s a bad birthday. The weather is always bad and it’s so close to Christmas and New Year that his birthday is often lost in the busy life of the holidays. A lot of people do that thing of giving him one gift for Christmas and his birthday, so he’s always getting a little ripped off, though he never complains about it.
We celebrated his birthday on January 4 this year at Harbin Hot Springs because he flew to Portugal to spend the second half of his winter break from college with his father, who moved to Portugal. So he missed 8 hours of his birthday on the flight from San Francisco to Lisbon, fell asleep on January 5th and woke up the night before his birthday, Portugal time. Once again, he was slightly outclassed.
I miss him…the nest is empty again. But more than that, I feel both gratitude for his birth and disappointment in remembering what happened on January 6th when those of us who love democracy realized that our country had taken a dark dystopian turn – and part of our country was right about that.
Now, things have turned dark with the attack on Venezuela and the kidnapping of its President and his wife without the authorization of Congress only 3 days before the six-year anniversary of January 6. That scares me and makes me fear for the future not only of the Venezuelan people, but also of the freedom-loving Americans, as well as those of Greenland, Canada, and other countries. The return of American imperialism is not something I wish to celebrate on my daughter’s twentieth birthday, even if many in my country seem to enjoy Donroe’s teaching that Trump and his friends are vilifying.
But in the midst of all this darkness and fear, I am also aware of the return of light. Each day since the Winter Solstice, the sun sets a little later, so I can walk my dog on the beach as the sky turns lavender for a while before they lock the gates. Each day since the Winter Solstice, I feel the movement of spring a little closer, as the narcissus and daffodils bloom here in Western Sonoma County. After seven straight days of rain and heavy flooding, the sun came out today, January 6, leaving hot pools in the area across from the barn I just entered. Sounds like a day of galoshes and treading water, careful not to spill any worms or salamanders.
So there it is- darkness and light, despair and hope, rain and sun combined with the rainbow I saw over Harbin Hot Springs the day we celebrated my daughter’s early birthday.
With that connection in mind, I’d like to share two poems by one of our writers’ group The Writer’s Calling, KL Aspden. He wrote for himself the Winter Solstice and read them at Monday’s gathering on Zoom. We were all blown away. If you like what he’s reading, you can follow him on Substack at and learn more on his website www.klaspden.com.
And if you would like to join us at our next gathering of The Call of the Writer on Zoom, we welcome all writers of all experience levels. We have a few new members this month, so we will help welcome and integrate new people. Join us here.
The Northern Hemisphere
Written by KL Aspden
It’s a very dark day
and all is not lost.
We still have candles in our homes.
It’s a very dark day.We are disappointed
without a face
who look out of their windows,
meet us with the act of realizing it.
It’s a very dark day.
Don’t leave your best outfit
in the wardrobe
waiting for that special occasion.
Wear soft, comfortable clothing.
Put jewelry on your neck, on your wrist,
it pins on your clothes.
Sparkle however you can.
It’s a very dark day.
No one can steal your dignity.
No one can steal your shining light.
No one can take glorious standards
with your bright body.
Hold on tight.
It is time for us to come together, shine in our corners
before nightfall.
Hold on tight
and hope
because in the morning.
The Morning After a Very Dark Day
Written by KL Aspden
Things will light up
you will see.
Slowly at first.
Things will be easy. Heavy coats
it will slide off the shoulders.
The boots will be booted. Steps
they will find their spring again.
Older dogs will sniff the doors to walk on their long legs
instead of curling up in their beds.
Snowdrops will peek through the mud.
Children will go in search of fairies
in the forest. Neighbors will talk
over the garden fence. Curtains
drawn against the cold will be opened.
Hearts will open. Warm rays will come and go
from outside.
People will start to trust again
to cast out the language of fear
to shine
and don’t be afraid of the dark.
