The Comfort of Snow

Growing up, snow made me uneasy. The great snow of 1989 in North Carolina was particularly unsettling. I was incredibly young. My dad made me a slushy from the snow and a Coca-Cola. In the evening, he and my mother got into a nasty fight. My life changed for the worse during that snow storm. The next time I saw snow was Autumn of my 16th time around the sun. I’d just moved to Kentucky because my father and I had an explosive fight where we nearly killed each other. Literally. When I arrived, the first couple of days were bright and sunny. But then, overnight, there was a few inches of snow on the ground. I woke up thinking my mother was playing a sick prank on me. While walking home from my first day at my new school in that snow, my older step sister was waiting outside for me letting me know that the house was mostly empty, that her dad decided to leave my mother, and that she wanted to make sure it had nothing to do with me or coming to KY. She made sure to remind me that I was loved and that she was sorry. I got blamed for it anyway. The only enjoyable memory I really have involving snow (prior to moving to Canada) was the time I had the opportunity to be with my godson during his first snow experience. It was amazing. But he’s a boy I’ll likely never see again, so that in itself makes it sad. Most of my car problems throughout my driving history have been in the snow. Snow was always just kinda messy for me.

But it seems that since I’ve moved, my views on snow has changed. Canadian Snow is different. I got engaged while snow still covered the ground. It snowed on my wedding day. I’ve had snowball fights with my step children. I’ve kissed in the snow, laughed in the snow, danced in the snow. So many good memories are being made to replace the bad ones.

The past couple of weeks have been stressful. My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer then died a few days later. It temporarily put me on an emotional roller coaster that I promptly found a way off of. I “broke up” with someone that was once my best friend. I grew tired of only being important when it was convenient for people, and she was one of them. Friends have seen her make snide remarks about it in various tagged posts on Facebook. It’s stupid and petty. For a couple of days, work was abnormally rough, but thankfully rebounded. I feel like garbage from my flu shot. My back is killing me from contortionist positions I had to get into for our family photo shoots, reminding me that I’m not as young or as flexible as I used to be. Then both of our vehicles decided to crap out at the same time, thankfully one of them being an easy fix, but the other will be costly. My stepchildren have been jerks all weekend. And to put the icing on the cake I got a snarky “That’s right, come to your mama” along with a smug glare when passing off my youngest stepson to his mother. It was really just shit I didn’t need added to my plate.

Just when I thought I couldn’t deal with any more crap, I looked out of the window and saw it snowing outside. Not much – a light dusting – but it’s cold enough for the snow to stay for a few days. I found it oddly comforting. As I watched the snow create a thin blanket over the ground, I felt my frustrations fall away with it. None of the above things matter. I deserve better than how people have and do treat me in life. (And I’m thankful to those who put as much back into me as I put into them.) The snow falling made the things that I can’t control just fall away. Had you asked me years ago if I’d ever like snow, I’d have laughed. But now? I find it rather relaxing. Here’s to snow, the blanket of comfort and solitude.