I was so frozen yesterday that once my fingers thawed, I desperately searched for Northface jackets online. Only to realize that they are a little less than affordable for me. But I figure by next week I'll be wearing short sleeves and my desire for a warm winter jacket will have passed. At least, I hope.
One the plus side of all this cold weather is that it has brought back some great memories of my years in Ohio. This is personally one of my favorites. So I figured I would share!
I was all bundled up from head to toe, snow suit pulled up tight over the plethora of layers I had already donned in anticipation of the freezing temperatures outside. I was a four year old that could easily be mistaken for a miniature purple Michelin man. As my mom handed me my gloves and scarf - the final touches before heading outside - she nervously asked if I had remembered to use the restroom. I was notorious for waiting until after she had clothed me in the appropriate attire, a process that took a good 15 to 20 minutes, to exclaim that I had to go potty. Much to her relief, I assured her that I was fine.
After making sure that my brother, sister, and I were fully dressed, we were ushered out the door towards our wood paneled station wagon. Like always, I fought to sit in the trunk where those extra pop up seats were, so that I could face out the back of the car, looking towards the house since we would back the car into the garage during the winter. Our house was on an extremely high hill, and at my small age and tiny height, this position was the closest I would get to a roller coaster ride for years.
Once us kids were settled in with seat belts and all, my mom manually pulled the garage door up to expose the white covered world that was awaiting us. She got in the car rather irritated, before heading down the steep hill of a driveway slowly. Her source of irritation? The garage door - conveniently broken during the coldest time of the year. Because of the steepness of our driveway, she couldn't just stop the car right outside the garage to shut it. She would have to drive down the driveway until it began to level out. As soon as she got to this point, she put the car in park, and set out to trudge up the hill to manually put the cursed garage door down. Knowing that it was a situation she was not at all pleased with, us kids watched in silence hoping that maybe once she got the door down and got back in the car, she'd be in a better mood.
It took a few minutes for her to get up the hill, navigating around the icy patches on the driveway, and a few more minutes to get the door down. The trick to getting it down was to hold the controller button down and pull at the same time. For some reason pressing the button on the controller to get the door to open worked completely fine, but trying to get it down just didn't work with a press of the button.
Finally getting it down, she turned to return back down the hill to where we sat patiently. After watching her take a few steps, my sibling's and my eyes widened in horror as we saw her hit a patch of ice and fall.
Fall to the ground - the icy ground.
The icy ground that propelled her - propelled her down the driveway, her ankle length coat providing the perfectly slidable sled.
Now she was angry. And we were scared.
She picked her self up off the ground outside the car, her mouth moving, creating words that were fortunately inaudible from inside the car. The three of us had began to cry due to the fear of her falling down the hill, and also because we were scared that she may be hurt.
As she opened the door, the cold air intruded into the warm car along with the sounds of cursing which immediately mixed with the sobs coming from us children in the back. She was cursing our dad - mad that he had the nerve to leave that door broken for so long, especially during the most inconvenient time of the year. Past the point of frustration she turned to look at us, wondering why on earth we were crying. She assured us she was okay, yet we continued to cry.
Finally one of us mumbled through tears, "But daddy is going to be mad..."
This was not what she wanted to hear. Why on earth would he be mad? She was the one that just flew down a steep driveway on ice. She tried to be patient though. "Why is daddy going to be mad?"
"B-b-because the garage door. The g-g-garage door isn't down"
My mom looked back at the garage. In the midst of her fall she had hit the button on the controller, and much to her dismay, the garage door had gone back up.
I figured I would share since this story somehow always comes up in conversations. And my mom's never hesitant to tell it. I wish I could do this story the justice it deserves. But even if my mom were to type it and post it on here, it just wouldn't be the same. Her expressions are the best. I never was one of those kids that asked my mom or dad to make up stories to tell me before bedtime, but I wish I had been. I don't think she realizes it, but my mom is the best at telling stories. Her expressions, her perfect pauses and personality in telling the stories. It's fantastic.
Anyways, I hope everyone is enjoying their cold weather! I know that in a few months when I'm trying to survive some blistering hot weather, I'll be missing it. So might as well enjoy it now!
Sincerely,
a mother's daughter
