It’s March 17th and snow swirls outside my kitchen window. The flakes are getting bigger instead of tapering off as the meteorologist promised. I smile at these frolicking flakes. I am reminded of Buffalo snow.
In Buffalo, it wasn’t uncommon to see snow falling in the middle of March. In Buffalo, it wasn’t uncommon to see snow falling in the middle of JUNE.
But here, in the mid Atlantic, the ‘uncommonness’ of snow falling on Saint Patrick’s Day makes it all the more delightful.
As long as you’re not the one shoveling it.
I watch my husband whistle his way down the driveway behind his mega blower. He loves that machine. Loves the way it hums. Loves that it’s not as powerful as the neighbor’s machine but it’s steady. It never breaks down. It’s been there for him all winter. The snowiest winter Virginia has seen in a very long time.
I think about my dad and all the snow he shoveled in his lifetime.
Buffalo snow.
No snow blower for my dad. Just a simple shovel for an unassuming man. He whistled his way down the driveway, too.
And that wasn’t the only snow he cleared.
I remember twelve-hour work days at the Boulevard Mall and coming out of work at 10PM, weary from the physicality of pulling down pieces of luggage and ‘marveling,’ with my customers, over a clasp, a hidden pocket, the smoky smell of leather almost too precious to touch, let alone throw into the baggage compartment of a 747.
Weary from watching the hours creep by knowing that I had a paper to write, a report to read, and only a few hours left in the night before my eyelids became too heavy and my mind too clouded to produce anything of value.
And there it was, my ’67 Valiant, cleaned off, warmed up, and waiting, while the rest of the parking lot prowlers used brooms and brushes to remove more than a foot of snow that had accumulated on their windshields during the course of a blustery Buffalo day.
And all I had to do was slip into my car and make my way home over ice-crusted avenues to greet the snow elf who had, once again, warmed both my automobile and my heart.
48 thoughts on “Snow Swirls”
Oh, I like the snow elf ending! I want one too, but I’m not sure what I’d do with him here in Jamaica. Sending virtual sun your way.
Julia, I think I need to send you some of this snow. We’re expecting more on Tuesday! For now, I’ll imagine the warmth of that Jamaica sun. Thank you for reading and responding to my post. So good to see your smiling face here.
I did not realize you were from Buffalo! Your writing resonates with this transplanted Northwestern Penna chicklitte:-) Beautifully said, thank you for sharing…and now onto that triple layer chocolate cake that is burning a whole on my kitchen counter!
Oh Cindy, I love that. Kindred spirits for sure! xxxooo
I love the snow elf ending, too, and that you have an elf now who didn’t mind that it snowed on St. Patrick’s Day. Another beautiful memory of your father. (And a slight giggle at the image of you working at the mall.) Do you have any photos of your 67 Valiant? That would be nice to see!
Oh, Tracey, I wish I had a photo of that car. I still had it in 1979 when I moved to Virginia. Can you imagine that? I remember sitting in it the night I sold it. I felt like I was losing my best friend.
I love nothing better than stories of your dad. He’s the high mark for all other fathers. Luckily, I married a man who will “whistle while shoveling snow.” Looking forward to reading your book.
I love that, Denise. With your prodding and belief in me, I just might write that book some day. Thank you.
Sue Ann, after I looked at your beautiful snowy photo and started reading this post, I kept ‘feeling’ something familiar, comforting, warming… couldn’t put my finger on it… and then it dawned on me. Reading your writing is like drinking hot chocolate.
Yes! I love that, Kim. . . soothing, warm, decadent and oh so sweet. Thank you!
Just simply love your writing and I completely agree with Kim 🙂
And the love for your father is breathtaking bringing both tears to my eyes, a lump in my throat as well as a smile on my face.
Thank you for reading and responding to this post, Carina. Thank you for helping me keep his spirit alive. He was such a humble man yet I know his spirit would be dancing to know he is loved by so many.
I have the keys to that car . I remember dad cleaning the windshield of snow and heating the car so that we would never feel the chill of winter. He still warms our heart doesn’t he? Do you feel the chill of winter? This year in Colorado YES!
Oh yes! And snow in the forecast for Tuesday as well. And yes, he still warms our hearts. Immensely.
P.S. I want that key! LOL
What is this white stuff of which you speak? 😉
Signed,
A Winter-less Desert Dweller
P.S. Beautifully written. xo
Sounds like you need some snow to balance those sultry winter days, Michelle!
Yes, please. 🙂
I’m so jealous of your snow! The boys and I have been chasing snow for years and even this very first winter in England for us – no snow 🙁 I even took them to Austria one year in January and it was the first time in years that there was no snow in the city! We took a tour to Hitlers Eagles nest PURELY because they told us there was snow up there and my boys had fallen asleep on the bus and we couldn’t wake them up to see the snow!!!!
Last year we had one day of snow (if you can call it that!) in Amman, but this year, the year we left, they had 10 DAYS of snow and the entire city shut down!! Please send us some!!!
Oh, Angela, you are so due for some snow play and your boys! Yes, keep chasing those flakes. It’s quite magical.
Sue Ann, how you have captured memories of your dad is beautiful. I also love your writing. Simply lovely! D ♥
Thank you for reading and responding to this post, Dana. He (my dad) shows up so often in my thoughts. I’m glad I have a place to share him and all that he was in those brighter days.
The snow elf made me smile. This NY winter had me driving the kids to the train station many times to shovel off dad’s car. He slipped on ice & broke his wrist at the beginning of the year and we have been sending lots of love to our snow blower too!
Oh Susie, I love the reverse story here and knowing that you are taking such good care of your dad. I hope that wrist mends quickly. Thank you for reading and responding to my blog post.
My dad died when I was just becoming a teenager and it is always like to wonder if he would have been that kind of dad – the kind that thinks to come and warm your car up for you. I love that! Very nice story..
Oh, Heather, knowing you, I just know he would have been that kind of dad. Holding you tenderly, here.
What a dear and wonderful story. My dad died when I was a little girl…I don’t know if he would have been a snow elf:) I am married to one now though! If it ever snows where we live, I know my husband would find a way to lift my burdens with it. xo
Susan, something tells me that the snow elf you married is the snow elf your dad wished for you someday, when his life was taken all too soon. It warms my heart that you are wrapped in so much love today despite the tragedy that was yours to bear so long ago. I weep with you here. Holding you tenderly. . . ♥
What beautiful memories! I can only imagine snow piled on my car – we’re at the end of a very long, very hot, dry summer in Australia! Thanks for the lovely story Sue Ann.
Thank YOU, Kelly. I know our seasons are like ships passing in the night. I hope you see some relief AND some moisture very soon. ♥
Today’s snow (March 22nd) was just as lovely – the kind that’s completely peaceful as it falls. Thanks for putting a positive spin on this year’s late Spring.
PS I love your Dad, though I guess that’s just your love shining through the memories.
Maybe so, Cathy, but I’m sure you would have loved him just the same. ♥ Thanks for stopping by.
I know you have gotten MORE than your fair share of snow in the US this winter. I have to say, I miss the snow. We haven’t seen it in 3 years. Thank you for sharing your memories.
I would miss it, too, Cheryl. For me, snow, marks the season of silence. I like “burrowing in” during the winter months and emerging again when spring nudges me outside to start planning and planting my garden.
What a SWEET story! Oh, I love that, even though the thought of all that snow just baffles me, now that I’ve lived in Southern California so long. I can’t even fathom what that feels like, but I *do* know what that love is like, what that care is like. <3 How wonderful!
I’m glad you could feel the love in this post, if not the snow, Bonnie. Thank you for stopping by my blog and honoring me with your response. Dreaming of sunny days in Southern California. . .
Oh, thank you Sue Ann. What a beautiful post. You took me back to my days growing up in Montreal and remembering the snow, and my dad and the many fond memories of shovelling … and the ‘so many times’ he was a snow elf for me and my mother. I could see him now in my mind’s eye as I read your beautiful words. mmmm … He has been gone for a very long time and this was such a lovely visit to places inside me I cherish … xo
I’m so glad this post brought you back to those days, Elizabeth. Thank you for sharing that with me. It reminds me that our memories do, in fact, serve others. I forget that when I’m in my what SHOULD I write today mode. ♥
What beautiful memories. That love from your dad will be felt for all of your days. Love expressed through doing speaks volumes. Congrats to you on keeping positive during this very unusual winter. Most are not bearing up as well.
It’s been a long hard winter for many. Spring will be that much more beautiful, I’m sure of it. Thanks for stopping by my blog, Lorna.
Oh! How lovely…a snow elf! Having never experienced even one little snow flake, I love the whole idea of snow covered anything. One day!
Maybe you can begin with a “snow cone,” Marg! One day, yes.
How lovely to have your very own snow elf. We don’t really get snow (a sprinkling once every few years maybe) and so I’ve never needed one. But you’ve given me a wonderful visual of one 🙂
This has been an unusual winter for us, Zoe, but I must say, I’ve enjoyed every flake and flurry.
Beautifully written Sue Ann! I must say, as a California girl, though, after 10 years of living in Washington DC, it felt nice to *not* have a snowy winter this year 🙂 I truly believe it’s all about what you grew up with. I admire East coasters who really love the snow and a true Winter 😉
I’m so glad you are enjoying the “warmth” of winter, Tania. I can’t imagine a winter without flakes but who knows? I may want a warmer climate some day, too.
Sigh. Thank you for writing about winter and your dad and how he has warmed your heart. My dad is not well and I think about how he taught me to love physical labor like shoveling and carrying logs and I’m journeying with you on this trail of flakes and memories.
Sending you so much love as you embark on this journey with your dad, Rebecca. I know you will stay connected to your heart and that you, too, will find a way to embody all that he taught you.
love the gentle image of your dad, taking such good care of his precious daughter. a sweet tale of warm affection that helps melt the coldest snow. thanks, sue ann.