Oddly, I never published this…so here it is, a few days late.

The weekend was perfect. Perfect! Friday afternoon I Valentine’s Day shopped, including cards and small calendars with inspirational quotes for the special women in my life. Friday evening significant other and I had a lovely dinner at a French restaurant situated, conveniently, half way between our respective homes. Saturday, unexpectedly and one by one, my four grown children wandered into my home, and I was able to spend time with each (still a favorite pass-time, :-)).

Massive snow mounds formed twelve foot mountains lining the perimeters of streets, parking lots and road sides. The sight brought me back to my early years in the city. With limited space for annoyances such as snow, plows would smash the compacted precipitation into large vertical cliffs (the better for us to walk upon). On snow days, my cousin and I would hike from her house to mine and back, solely atop these machine-made peaks. Dressed like Eskimos, red-cheeked and giggling, we’d stumble our way across the land.

I can’t help but notice the difference in my response to snow and ice now. Less sure footed, I move slowly, checking for a stable hold and black ice. I am tentative, not courageous. Falling holds consequences I’m less likely to accept, and if it did happen, those consequences would likely take longer to recover from. I still love snow. Just snow. Bitter cold and hardened ice I am happy to forego. My enjoyment is from afar. From my window. In the realm of the theoretical, not the practical. This is why people my age move to Florida.

As snow falls yet again and temperatures dip into the chilly teens, I remind myself that living in the northeast includes four seasons, one of which is winter. Seasons are wake up calls to new and changing elements, like kids who were once small and are now grown. I want to remain present to their beauty and their demands. Challenges and joy reside everywhere, all the time. It is up to each of us individually and all of us collectively to define what works, adapt when needed, and dance along the (sometimes) snow-drenched streets of life.

One more point – a shout out to The Beatles. Your music has touched countless individuals and generations. I still sing, dance and cry when I hear it. Last night was a nostalgic delight.