Snowstorm, ah the excitement when you open your eyes, wipe the dust out, lean up and look out the window and you can’t see a thing but a completely unexpected beautiful blanket of white. Visions of sugarplums, mistletoe and big plates of turkey, dressing and broccoli casserole all dance in front of your eyes. You crawl out of bed, put your feet on the floor and then whip them off like it’s an oven of hot coals, except that it’s cold, subterranean cold to be exact. As you lean over and grab a pair of wool socks without touching the ground, you pull the blankets up around your shoulders and skulk down the hall wall feeling for the thermostat. You go to put some water in the kettle for tea, wait two seconds and realize the pipes have frozen, yesterday it was 5.9 degrees and today the bloody pipes are frozen and forget about going to a friend’s house to have a shower - it’d take five hours to go five minutes away the way people drive. There are two speeds for winter driving and both equally treacherous, so slow you could pass them on a unicycle and so fast they end up in a ditch stopping traffic behind them for miles. But I’ve got somewhere to be, actually not just somewhere but I’ve got to get to downtown Toronto to pick up my sister’s wedding dress, why I didn’t do it yesterday I have no idea. I don’t need to tell you how “not good” this situation is, I have been given the responsibility of ” The Dress”, the only thing almost as important as the bride and the groom actually showing up on their wedding day. Women spend their whole lives dreaming about ” The Dress”, they spend a ridiculous amount of money and I’ve heard some people even name it. My sister, however, has been the anti-bridzilla, calm, relaxed and graceful, so much so that she trusted me to transport her dress home to Newfoundland. What was she thinking? I am her baby sister, doesn’t she realize the myriad of things that could happen with that dress in my care, the tea spilling, the pizza eating and not to mention the taxi cab or plane forgetting? If I mess this up I might as well never come home again, so I am putting on the last layer of long johns, mittens, hat and parka and walking there, I seriously would rather freeze to death then show up without it. So here’s to you, my big sister on your wedding day, you are worth every frozen finger, nose and toe!
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Author: dav | Category: Uncategorized
|You know Christmas is coming when you are boogying down the highway five minutes ahead of a storm and a truck hauling a float of taxidermied reindeer passes you, with head movements so life like you’d swear you saw them blinking and heard bells tied around their necks — so loud they drowned out the sound of the car horn. I must admit I am known for having a bit of a weak stomach but the sight of the stuffed fluffies sent me into a tizzy, oh the poor children standing roadside for a glimpse of Santa only to see a bunch of dead deer on sticks. As we passed Antigonish, we saw the truck make the turn and it was with great relief that I realized the Christmas Parade had been cancelled. On the other hand, it meant the storm was catching up to us so I put my foot a little harder down on the gas and we arrived in Cape Breton just in time to pull into the driveway, turn off the car, walk inside the door and take off our boots before the snow hit like a Hollywood bathroom. You couldn’t see a thing through the windows and it was clear we were there for the night. Ask every single passenger stranded in Newfoundland after 9 11 and they will tell you it was one of the best experiences of their lives, it’s like life gives you no option but to enjoy the moment - and I was in Cape Breton so I was happy to enjoy the moment. We went there to visit a friend’s father, who through the years had become a great friend himself, and who was battling Cancer. We had a great day and night chatting, laughing and talking about how blessed we all were to have each other. We said goodbye a day later, got back in the car and back on the plane to Toronto. As soon as I walked in my house I got the call he had passed and I felt twelve million emotions - sadness for his family and community, yet relief that he didn’t have to suffer any longer. I also felt immense joy that I got to count this man as a friend and that my lasting image of him is one of smiles and laughter. So much so, it’s only when I squint really hard and try to picture every detail do I even remember he was wearing an oxygen mask. I guess sometimes God is in the forgetting of the details.
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