But a few weeks ago, while at Wal-Mart I was compelled to walk down the sweetheart aisle of the store that is now all decorated in red, pinks and hearts and I stopped to read some of their cards. Amore filled me! I felt like a school girl, pausing and trying to decide which card I'd pick out for my Sweetheart.
I reminded myself I didn't have one- but I felt like I did. Which is a good sign that I haven't let myself become too curmudgin-ish.
Then it happened. A comment, left me crushed and I said: "Bah-humbug, love!"
Why do I let that happen? Especially when I got the snow I asked for? Driving down my street and having a neighbor(s) who is so fragile is the only thing that turns me from looking inward and out into the beauty of it all. Even with the heartbreaks.
To keep mine from bursting I took the small shovel and started to move snow. A bit at a time. It was dark and hid myself from others somewhat. Yes, it was still snowing and usually not the greatest idea.
But it was healing to head up my neihbors' drives where they exit their garages and move the snow out of the way from being turned into ice. I even did Padren's tire treads. Despite crazy shingles pain, arthritis. I took to the snow hoping it would alleviate the other aching.
It did. For a moment and then after my hair was sufficiently doused with wet snow flakes, I leaned the shovel up to the house, opened the door and stepped over J.'s basketball bag and sweatshirt without trippin due to fogged glasses and retreated to the tub. I poured Epsom salts in and just sunk under the water until my muscles were relaxed enough, my body temperature brought back to speed and my shingles screaming: "FIRE!"
Slowly I washed my hair with yummy smelling shampoo from baby Sis's store. When I got out my bones began to freeze like they do when I stop moving. But I shuffled downstairs to gather my warm clothes and get some left-overs ready.
I opened the fridge to see they were gone!! The beans on the stove, for mom's chili, weren't ready yet and it was late- time for J. and I to go to bed! AHHH!!!!
Tears welled in my eyes as if I'd just been sent notice of a pending engagement. Thinking something as trivial and small as leftovers are still left in the fridge over night for you to use when you need it?
Padre said: "That happens to me all the time. I buy groceries, come home and their gone. Welcome to life."
Little consolation.
I opened the olive can, made a microwave omelette for my little baller and then we read the last chapter in Call of the Wild. I didn't cry. It just.... stunned me.
And for some reason I think there is gold dust buried in a valley where a lone wolf howls. And John Thornton's memory still hangs in every soulful cry of the beast!
Taking chili to someone who would appreciate it on such a cold winter afternoon and indulging in it myself with some fresh french bread was sooo delicious. Mmmm. MOm's chili is divine. Topped with snow outside it chases away heartbreak.
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