The First Snow Day

Surrendering to Winter

I’m sitting up in bed… crusty eyes, morning breath and my computer on my lap. My twelve year old puppy dog Denver, is curled up at my feet, the faint scent of urine snuggled into his blanket along with him. The first sign of incontinence… one of aging’s many “blessings”.

It’s the boys first snow day of the year and I watch the flakes falling outside of my window. It’s not one of those pretty snows… the fluffy flakes that coat each tree branch like a magical frosting.

Rather, I’m seeing flakes so tiny they almost look like mist flying through the air and they never seem to land because the ferocious wind keeps them moving in an erratic dance– first this way, then that…no rhythm to it at all.

I hear the hum of a neighbor’s snowblower and the occasional shifting of our old windows when an especially strong gust of wind howls.

I listen to Bruce & Everett’s little voices downstairs and the first pangs of hunger creep into my belly as I smell my husband making their breakfast.

A tired vacancy is wrapped around me like a weighted blanket.

This veil of heavy sleepiness clinging to every part of my body. My breath slow, my eyes puffy… even my wrists plead with me to stay connected to my laptop, lifting as little as possible with each finger’s stroke of my keyboard.

This is winter.

With a slow, languid smile on my face, I surrender.