snow days are the exception
i don’t consider myself a particularly superstitious person. except on snow days.
no kid in new england cared about the forecast more than when it was going to snow. and it turned us all into god-worshipping, superstition believing, faith-filled people for just about 24 hours. for those hours we knew we had to do everything to make a snow day happened. we followed the legends our ancestors and fore bearers passed on to us: wear your pajamas inside out, flush ice cubes down the toilet, sleep with a spoon under your pillow, and so on. and we believed it. or wanted to anyways. and once it was over, i went back to being a nonbeliever. but snow days were the exception.
i never wanted to be a teacher. except on snow days.
my mom is a teacher. she would get just as giddy as me, help me flush an ice cube down the toilet, and have hot cocoa (with marshmallows!) waiting for me in the morning. when i was really young and the power would go out she’d read me books by flashlight and candlelight, snuggled under blankets. “wow.” i would think. “my mom is SO cool she gets snow days too!” and i never dreamed of teaching. but snow days were an exception.
i don’t consider myself a particularly homesick person. except on snow days.
nowadays my mom, still teaching, texts me when snow is coming. she recently had the first snow day of the year and sent me a photo of the fresh fallen fluffy stuff on our front yard. i smiled and felt a slight pang go through me. see, i’d dreamed of moving away for college and then i did. i don’t get snow days anymore. but something in the core of my bones yearns for the cold. my cousins posting photos of snow falling, telling me about the pains of driving in the slush. i laugh, “god i do NOT miss that” comes tumbling out of my mouth holding back the envy i feel at waking up to the new england landscape blanketed in snow. i am usually not very homesick, have grown accustomed to the fact i moved. except on snow days.
on snow days i gaze wistfully out of my window. on snow days i go to class because nothing was canceled for me. on snow days i miss skiing. miss the rush of bitter wind on my nose as i speed downhill. on snow days i miss the cold. miss bundling up in a hat and scarf, clutching a hot coffee because i could not find my mittens that morning but at least this might warm me up. on snow days i miss seeing my breath exit my body. on snow days i have to remind myself why i left.
