There is something incredibly magical about waking up as the snow is coming down. A light dusting already canvassing the earth, with the promise of more to come. Then reality hits-this crap is quickly going to turn into slush or ice, it’s going to turn brown and dirty and I have to go out in it. Two years ago I finally bought myself a pair of winter weather boots from The North Face. These are my obsession:
Upon further exploration I am realizing that these bad boys are old and out of date, which makes me incredibly sad as I absolutely love them and it makes going out into the snow just a bit more tolerable because I get to wear them. They do however still sell a similar version of my boots with red laces and a little patch of red on the back of the boot which are pretty darn cute.
This Christmas I was reminded of one of the last time I went sledding as a kid. Every time it would snow enough to stick, my Dad would take us sledding at the local golf course of all places, which has a huge hill at the end of the course. I have a couple vivid memories of these trips. The first being of one from when I was about 6. I was wearing a pink onesie ski suit and sledded a bit off the path and headed straight to the tiny brook of water in the middle of the course. I remember screaming bloody murder thinking I was going to crash. Crashing is exactly what I did. My sled slid right into the water, hit a rock, flipped over and I was face first into the cold water.
My second vivid memory is one of the last times I went sledding there. I was probably about 12 or 13 because I went alone with my Dad; my sister was older and probably too cool for sledding at the time. We headed towards the back of the hill, having never ventured there before and thinking not to many people would be back there sledding. We walked through a small forest of trees and came to the edge of the hill, no one was there. Looking down we noticed that people had been skiing there earlier in the day and formed a nice sledding path down the hill.
My Dad went first…. whoosh down the hill and all of a sudden: BAM! The tip of his sled hit something, causing the sled to flip over and he landed face first in the snow. I stood there laughing and thinking it was funny he crashed. About thirty seconds later, my Dad was still lying there in the snow, not moving. I ran down the hill and at the bottom saw that what he hit was a man-made snow mound, right at the bottom of the hill. His sled hit it dead on and that’s what caused him to flip over. He was coming around and I managed to get him to roll over. I remember he cut himself and was bleeding, I think around his ear. He looked disoriented and confused.
My 12-year-old mind immediately freaked out. What was I going to do? For one, I couldn’t carry him. Secondly, I am old people, cell phones did not exist. My third thought immediately was, we are not far from home, but I have no idea how to drive!
As an adult, I look back at these memories fondly. Time with my Dad was always rare as a kid. He worked seven days a week for most of my life. As of a few months ago, he closed his business and essentially, retired. His retirement has been good for him. He looks happier then I have seen him in years. It makes me think, will he have time to make the kinds of memories he made with me, with my nephew? I hope so.
Today I enjoy the small amount of snow falling on the ground. I treated myself to a hot cup of cocoa this morning and topped it off with some homemade Chocolate Marshmallows I made right before Christmas.
I think its important, as I work towards my happiness and positive transformation in the new year that I stop to appreciate the moments of tranquility I do have. This morning obviously made me think of my Dad and being a kid, spending my snow days sledding and not caring about things so much. The weekend is in our sights and hope that everyone else can take a moment to enjoy the snow and all that they have in their day. You can worry about everything else tomorrow.