What a strange word February is. Most of the months in our calendar get their name from Roman gods. February is unique in that it got its name from a festival the Romans celebrated, from which they created a god to honor during that festival. The festival was Februa. It was a month long and focused on cleansing the people from their sins, specifically by sacrifice and fire. This is sad, knowing what was probably sacrificed during these month long festivals.
I always felt a special connection to February, since it has always been my birth month. Do most people feel that way with the month they were born in? I always thought the name was a bit romantic, maybe because Valentine’s Day also is in February? It’s definitely lost its romance after researching its origins.
I’ve noticed that a lot of people where we live get sad this time of year. They lose their motivation towards the goal they started with strong at the new year, or lose steam in their homeschool. This could be for many reasons. Valentine’s day may be a reminder of the lack of love in their lives. Probably more realistically this is due to the lack of sun in their lives, as it is the middle of winter. Vitamin D supplements have been a big life saver for me in this regard. I wonder too if there’s some spiritual element of our souls lamenting the origins of this month.
My research also revealed that February used to be the last month of the year in the Roman calendar. So the people would cleanse themselves of their sins before jumping into a new year on March first. How fascinating that people still try to reinvent themselves at the new year, even though the day has been different for over two thousand years.
Having a birthday in this month, it’s kind of like a new year is beginning in my life. Since it’s my 38th birthday later this month, I will begin my 39th year, my 39th lap around the sun. Boy am I grateful for each one. The older people get, it seems the less they desire to acknowledge their age or celebrate that number, but what a gift each year is. This becomes more evident with each passing year. The more devastation I see, the more life becomes precious. The more I realize time is finite, the more I desire to celebrate the little things each day offers.
Tonight I stayed up late with my middle precious angel of a daughter. She saw her brother staying up late last night as he sometimes asks to do, so we offered a turn for her to have some quality time late into the night. She helped me wrap presents for our youngest and decorate the house for her birthday coming up. What interesting conversations arise when you make time for one-on-one discussion with your children. So very grateful for that sweet time with her this evening. What a beautiful way to start off our February, the ending of a year in my life and the beginning of a new lap around the sun.