I have never been fond of cold weather. In fact, anything below 70 is just about unbearable. At the mention of my dislike for weather reminiscent of winter, people are quick to prepare me, “Just wait. It hasn’t begun to get cold.” I have been living in denial over what that cautionary statement could possibly mean. I cannot even conjure up any type of sensory images; it’s too foreign. However, I have noticed a strange transformation occurring.
Not all that long ago morning walk in 50 degrees would nearly leave me a human popsicle, now it’s fairly manageable and almost comfortable. It hasn’t been only an acclimation to the cold; there has also been a change in my excitement for what winter will be like. Curiosity has begun to set in, and the idea of winter rings of adventure. I first noticed this new outlook last Tuesday.
Mr. MI stopped by to see me at work, and we were trying to determine a good day to bring home the new sofa that I had bought the day before. Two days of rain were hindering our efforts. So we looked up the weather hoping that the following day there might be an opportunity. The weather showed chance of snow flurries for Tuesday night. I got so excited about the thought that it was going to snow. He assured me repeatedly that it wasn’t going to happen. The incessant optimist that I am kept saying “It says it’s going to snow!” Finally I conceded, knowing that Mr. MI has significantly more experience with snow than me.
The day continued and eventually I got home from work. I did the mom thing and finally turned in at about 10:30pm (Yes, way too late for this early bird!). Out of nowhere, I am awakened from a sound sleep by the loudest doorbell I have ever heard! I reached for my phone to check the time and saw the Mr. MI had tried to call me. It was 12:50am! Why on earth would he be ringing my doorbell at this time?
I rolled out of bed and stumbled down the unlit hall. There was no need to grab my robe, not that I was remotely awake enough to think to do that. I was so cold, I was sleeping in it. With my eyes barely opened, I open the door and asked in a whispered voice “What are you doing here?” Of course he replied, but in my confusion I only heard intermittent words like a call on a cell phone with a bad signal. I asked him again; and he said so sweetly, “It’s snowing.” I have a still shot of that moment preserved in the photo album in my mind.
I understood him that time but I couldn’t quite figure out how to see it. I chased my tail, walking in circles, until I thought to go look out the window. He was right; it was snowing. Now I had to really see it. My boots were by the door. As quickly as I could, about the speed of a tortoise, I put my boots on…on the wrong feet… and stepped out onto the landing. I could see the snow as I looked into the light in the parking lot. It was magical. If you have ever been to Disneyland over the Christmas holiday and watched the snow fall after the fireworks show, then you would understand what I mean by magical. For those who haven’t been to Disneyland over the holidays, it is something wonderful to see. Make the time, save the money and go.
Seeing the snow fall from a distance wasn’t enough. I had to feel it. I walked past Mr. MI as I went downstairs to stand in it. I remember him saying, “You don’t have a jacket” as he took his off and put it over my shoulders. It was snowing so lightly that I couldn’t feel it on my skin. I could have stood there watching for awhile. I was cold but so captivated by the beauty and the experience of seeing my first ever snow fall that I was unaware of the discomfort from the cold.
There were many special things about that night. It meant a lot to me that Mr. MI went out of his way to make sure I didn’t miss this “first”. I am thankful that he knows me well enough to know that he was risking making me mad for waking me up (This girl needs her beauty sleep!) but risking me miss the first TN snow fall would have caused me to be more disappointed than I might have been mad. It was lovely to have a friend to share this “first” with…and all the funny, and frankly embarrassing, little moments that went along with it.
Thank you, Mr. MI.