The Waiting Game

"Mom, when is it going to be winter again?"

"In a few more months, honey. Why?"

"So we can build a snowman like last year."

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It didn't take long for this soul to build a special bond with winter. And after many years of circling this planet, I still look forward to it. Even with the added routines of putting on heavy clothing and keeping an eye on the thermostat, it's a time of year to cherish...

According to memory, life didn't begin until I was three. A time when most children begin mentally cataloguing things they encounter, impacting their growing awareness. I have no idea what I was doing before that. It's pointless to think about but it is intriguing knowing you existed before memories began to stick. I'm more than happy not to remember teething.

***

A child's introduction to old man winter represents a universal high for those graced to live in a climate that experiences the cold side of winter yearly.

I loved it growing up! Still do! Snow was the most amazing thing ever, and I was just beginning to learn the things I could do with it.

But it wasn't until age five when I first saw the holiday cartoon, Frosty the Snowman, that a bond would be created. I had no Idea what I was about to watch and how much of it I would understand. But there I was, sitting too close to the TV, completely enthralled by a talking snowman.

"Mommy? How come the snow man can talk?"

"Because he has a magic hat on."

I wanted to meet Frosty. I wanted him to be a friend.

"Mom! I want a snowman."

"Ok. You have to wait until it snows enough, and we can make one."

Oh, right. There needs to be snow first... silly, five-year-old.

Regardless of the hazy or missing details, I'm positive I thought about Frosty for days or weeks after seeing the special. Right up to the day my mother bundled us up and headed out the back door to make a snowman.

I was amazed at the sight of her rolling a snowball around in snow and watching it get bigger in front of my eyes. She assembled it rather quick, reaching four or five ft in height after she hoisted the head atop. It felt like I was about to meet Frosty... But that, of course, never happened. It just stood there afterwards looking sad with its twig arms and baseball cap. There was no vibrant Frosty.

I was still happy!

As I grew older, my interests with the season grew broader. My brother and I made many a snowman over the years and had a blast destroying them as well. We spent plenty hours enjoying the thrill of sledding down hills and having endless snowball fights with cousins and neighbors. The kind where your gloves or mittens are soaked with ice and slush afterwards. We didn't care. It was all about having fun.

***

I can't think of a better winter pastime than watching snow fall. It's a calming sight. Especially those types of snow showers where everything is quiet, there's no wind, and big flakes are constantly cascading to the ground, creating quite a show for the senses.

The majority of my most-memorable winter escapades began in January 2003, when a friend and I moved to the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.

For ten glorious years...

At an elevation of 9200 ft, winter comes sooner and lasts longer in the mountains. In fact, the earliest I've seen it snow where I lived was September 28th. And the latest, June 1st.

There had been a warming trend but that means very little near the continental divide. I remember laughing at the fact that it was almost summer and it was snowing. It was a pleasant surprise, and I watched it come down in partially obscured sunlight. A magnificent scene to behold.

But sometimes it snowed way too much there.

Not long after moving to a mountain town called, Nederland, near Boulder, CO, there was a storm that stalled over 80% of the state. An event that hadn't happened there in a long time.

Where I lived, it snowed 5ft in 36 hours. It was constant. It was beautiful. It was overwhelming but I appreciated being part of it. Part of history in a sense.

Imagine watching it snow all day until it's time to go to bed. When you wake, you realize it never stopped and keeps going all day. AGAIN! It was everywhere. I'm 5'11 and it was Neck-Deep in places.

I, of course, had the pleasure of being responsible for our two small dogs. I happily went out there almost every hour clearing a trail from the porch to the driveway to give them an area to go do their business.

After it was all said and done, peaks lie packed with fresh powder. Evergreens slumped with exhaustion from carrying extra weight. And our second car was nowhere to be found. It was out there somewhere in our wide, dirt driveway. I kept the other car clear of snow and tried to keep the driveway flat using it. However, I was not aware I was slowly building a ramp until the back wheels came off the ground, ending my attempt to beat the elements at their own game.

I survived other snowstorms in Colorado. But it was never more than two feet at a time. I sure do miss it there and all the fun I had snowboarding and hiking. Great times!

***

As an aging gentleman who appreciates the snow, what can better showcase the frozen fluff than outdoor lights and decorations?

Since 2012 we've decorated the outside of whatever house we've lived in. And yes, it's become a tedious ritual with satisfying results.

My life friend, Stefanie, and I, moved back to OH from Michigan almost two years ago. We lost some favorite decorations to old age and careless packing. And it’s always a crapshoot whether string lights will work from one year to the next. Regardless, anytime between the second week of November and December 1st, I grab the ladder and start bringing down boxes in the garage. Checking and unravelling lights is always first. Even if I wind them up neatly and separate them in bags for storage, they ALWAYS end up tangled.

This year didn't cooperate, though. It snowed and the cold settled in well before I planned to decorate. I didn't let it stop the tradition. I put a good amount of our decorations up in frigid conditions. I had no choice. The house looked dismal without the added effect of Holiday cheer.

Once everything was in place and timers were set, it was time to go live. Unfortunately, our 14 ft Santa died after only a couple hours of being plugged in. God rest its soul and bless 7-8 years of service it provided.

Winter is full of joy and giving on one end of the spectrum. On the other, harsh conditions and added expenses. In the middle is where we find balance to appreciate togetherness and survive to see the next one.