Shades of Gray

I had hoped I would get use to the cold. That living up here long enough I would eventually tolerate it, maybe even begin to enjoy aspects of it. That seeing my girls in snow suits making snow angels would be all it took to get me excited about the weather. That I could find pleasure in it through their eyes.

I wish that were the case. Each winter it gets harder instead of easier. I find it depressing to be honest. The holidays get me through to exactly January 1st and by January 2nd I'm dreaming of spring. Everywhere I look are shades of gray. Salt residue covers every inch. The roads, snow, sky, trees, cars, street signs, even the sunshine; everything...different shades of gray.

And don't get me started on the cold. I can't shake it, it's deep in my bones. It reminds me of when I had to get fluids by IV when I was pregnant with Loretta. They store those fluids in refrigerators and talk about literally having your blood turn into ice. There is no blanket warm enough. That's how I feel in my own house and at work. Never warm enough to thaw my bones completely. We had an ice storm recently and hearing those huge 100 year old limbs snap under the frozen wait on them was disturbing and impressive at the same time. Mother Nature and her uncompromising glory.

But, luckily, I do have one constant and brilliant ray of warm light to help me through this long, cold, bitter winter. My children. I can't look at them without feeling privileged and beyond fortunate to have them in my life.