Lights in the Windows: A Story of Finding Simple Joy in the Pandemic

I was in my pajamas, snuggled under a blanket, melting into the calm of evening, when my husband asked me to pick up the pizza with him. I could feel the cold coming through the windows as the outside bluster of winter waited for me from just a wall away. The wind rattled the windows and frost on the panes concealed the steadily falling snow. “Why not?” I said, knowing this was as close to a date as we’d have during this year of pandemic quarantine. Bundled in a down coat, clunky boots, a hat and mittens, I tucked my chin to my chest and shuffled to the car.

The car door creaked loudly in response to the below freezing air, the cold seat in opposition to my body, still warm from being inside the house. In the dark, we blew air into our palms. I noticed him glance up at our house. I cast my own eyes in the same direction, catching at first one, then two, then half a dozen twinkles of candles placed in each window. We made eye contact and he smiled sheepishly. “I got them on sale,” he confessed, “fifty percent off at CVS. They’re battery operated and on timers.”

“Let’s drive around the block,” I suggested, “so I can see them from the street.” I knew without looking at him that he was proud of surprising me with a simple pleasure. As we crawled past the house, we remarked at how lovely the lights were and how the house lit up against the dark sky. Our conversation was relaxed on the drive into town. In a year with little to be excited about, and a lot to be fearful of, we were both low-level giddy.

I enjoyed the heat in the the car, while he paid for the pizza, the street quiet and dark with the exception of activity in the restaurant.

When we parked in our driveway, I placed the pizza box on my seat and crossed the road, phone in hand and, with no exchange of words about what I was doing, he followed me. We held our cameras skyward, snapping this moment of the moon shining down on our home with a light in every window. "It looks really neat," he admired. "It sure does." I replied.