The thrill of snow grows old

When you are a Fl girl, snow is glamorous and beautiful. When we moved to GA, I delighted in the first snowflakes I ever saw. We shoveled the driveway in good cheer in MD and I carted the kids in a sled in IL. We've tramped in NH, Chicago and Boston all the while thrilling the bitter cold and wet shoes. But now, it seems the cold, wet snow has gotten on my bad side at last.

We are officially stuck in Oregon. The children and I came for a much anticipated extended visit. As in all long trips, homesickness had set in. Yesterday we were supposed to be home and we are not. We will be home, if all goes well, on Fri. Today is Tuesday. I'm trying to resist the urge to list every beloved home activity to do upon our arrival. I am trying to make the most of the time we have left here. My head knows it will be some time before I am able to come this way again. My heart and my children keep watching every new snowfall with dismay. I'll Be home for Christmas has been banned from our playlist. My calls to DH have become more frequent. Usually, it is he who is away and calls frequently when stressed.

Present too, is a vague guilt over my disappointment. After all, we are well fed, dry, warm with new adventures right around the corner. What right have I to be sad over things? Also in my thoughts is the knowledge that Christmas does not depend on our where abouts, our incomes, or even our companions. It is the birthday celebration of a man who changed humanity. This year, I'm being given yet another opportunity to ponder this.

Oh well. In a week's time, this will pass. All that will remain are the wonderful memories of an indulgent uncle, cherished grandparents, awe inspiring forests and an ocean to silence all chatter.
Merry Christmas