Winters are hard on the old.

This is true for most wildlife species, and humans are apparently no different.

My earliest memories are of their house in Council Bluffs, a home that we teased was on the wrong side of river. I remember us and my cousins spending most of our time playing on our grandfather's billiards table. Heavy, thick eastern hardwood, with pockets made of leather baskets. And my aunt always delivering small snacks of some sort.

Later, when they moved just a couple of towns north of Herworship, the billiards table came along, and remained the center of our attention, downstairs by the carport. With the reflexology poster by the door. And the cookies or cheesecake still arriving regularly.

She loved her new kitchen, the abundance of cabinet space, the garbage disposal (and compressor, if I remember right), and the buffet counter opening to the dining room.

My uncle cut into the wall of that dining room and created a glass display case for her most precious china.

But perhaps most of all, I remember the Thanksgiving blizzard of '83. When the wife and I, with our young son, found ourselves stranded south of the state line. Unable to get home, or even closer to home, nor able to get back south along the Front Range. Motels were full in both university towns, and we found ourselves at their doorstep. Unannounced.

And there we stayed, what? Two or three days? Maybe a fourth? I no longer remember. Never once feeling as though we were intruders, or an inconvenience. That this unexpected visit was a welcome diversion in their lives.

I suppose it is no accident that youngest son's names bear such resemblance to the names of her sons. The sounds just seem to go together so well, with only good feelings.

And I remember her great concern over her husband's health. The chemicals he dealt with in his business, the hours he put in at his carpentry job, even after his heart surgery.

And yet, he has outlasted her. Like my other aunt we lost at Christmas, her death was not unexpected, and perhaps even a little merciful.

But winter is a hard season.