"...and all that has me wishing for simpler times. Times when snow meant getting bundled up and going outside with friends for hours. When sledding down a hill was all I wanted to do for an entire day. Snowball wars and snow angels made everything better. When a sled full of friends meant I was loved. A rosy pink nose made me giggle when I went inside to warm up... yeah NOW i know it was probably frostbite, but then I knew it meant I'd had a good day. Now I hate the cold, hate dumbasses driving in the snow, hate getting bundled up and can't remember the last time I went sledding.
I visited home in November '05 for a family emergency. I met my sister and my nephew for lunch. It was snowing just enough to stick on surfaces but not the road. That day I taught my nephew the joy of snowballs. Actually I taught him how to take a pile of snow in your hand and throw it yelling "Snowball!". That was the last time (before Mac's intro to snow a couple of weeks ago), that I clearly remember what snow really meant. Seeing the joy in A's face as he pelted my sister and I with "snowball"s was all it took to remember. When I finally have a kid I will definitely want to see that same joy in his or her face. But that's a long way down the road....." (written feb '07)
A little over 8 years later and I was doing exactly that: watching my son enjoy the snow for the very first time. And I was right there with him! I may not be a full-time, always there-for-you aunt but I adore all my nieces and nephews, by blood or by choice.
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