Let It Snow
Each winter, I am a reminded that I enjoyed the snow a whole lot more when I was a younger. When my brother, sister and I were kids, just hearing that a snowstorm was about to hit our area was enough to fill our house with loud cheers and applause. Not so much from our parents, but always from the three of us. I understand my parent's point of view much better now. But a good snowfall in Astoria was definitely an event to behold. And it took a lot, a LOT, to get a public school in Queens to close for the day due to bad weather. On the rare occasions that it happened, it was like getting two Christmases that year. Snow days in my neighborhood bring back memories of good old-fashioned days filled from with tackle football at P.S. 10, sledding sessions on the hills at Astoria Park and snowball wars pitting one block against another. Making snowmen was something we pretty much left to kids in the burbs. And a rite of passage that everyone in our neighborhood had to undergo was trying “skitching.” If that doesn't ring a bell from your own childhood, just picture water skiing on snow…with no skis, of course. Oh, and by using a truck or any big vehicle as the boat. Hence growing up across the street from a post office came in really handy.
Nowadays, however, the sounds of a winter weather advisory inspires nothing in me but groans and phrases that I definitely can't print in a family blog. As an adult, my days of snowy fun are replaced with nerve wracking hours of shoveling, driving in sloppy conditions, trying not to fall on every random patch of ice and dealing with the even more delayed daily commute to work. But something these winter wonderlands also remind me of is how my daughter can manage to keep me feeling young, especially when it snows. During our first big snow of the 2009-10 season, I was happy to see Meghan tear down the front steps of our house and run head on into every snow bank she could find. She showed all of the delight and reckless abandon that my siblings and I had at Meghan's age. During the hours I spent digging out our house and our car, I watched and reminisced while my daughter made a fort with her cousins, threw a 6 year old's version of snowballs and got herself frozen, soaked and rosy cheeked from head to toe. Laughing and giggling the whole time. So at least I know that whenever my back starts to hurt from shoveling or the weather slows my train to a crawl, I can still relive my childhood winter happiness through my daughter's eyes, and through a few great memories of my own too.