The Long, Long Winter

Sitting by a window on the fifth floor of Lau, I see a man in a blue puffer coat, gray gloves, black or navy pants, and tennis shoes pushing a snow blaster. Within the small stretch of sidewalk I can see, the blaster got stuck at least twice. Meanwhile, snow is falling as intensely as it was two hours ago and shows no signs of stopping (left my corn for popping at home). Which means that, eventually, more snow will cover the sidewalk. Some of it will probably turn to ice after countless pairs of shoes crunch it down. Maybe it will thaw by April? That groundhog wasn't joking.

I hate snow. "Hate is a strong word," my dad says. "Is this the girl who was so excited to go to college farther north and get more snow?" he also asks. Yes, it is I. Only my appreciation for snow started waning sophomore spring and had completely fizzled by last spring. True, for some reason inexplicable to me, when snow falls, the air feels less bitterly cold. It's pretty to see from an indoor window. If the timing is right, you may get a day (or four) off from school. But life doesn't temporarily close down because the weather is bad. We get sick and need care. We get hungry and run out of food, food we have a realistic chance of eating that is. We get behind at work or in school and can't burrow ourselves away until vacation comes. Then what?

We keep going as best we can. It's all there is to do. Often we complain about the cold and the snow and the ice and the misery of keeping on. I know I do. If we do get a day off, we rejoice. But remember: "Emergency employees must report to work on time."

Who is out at 5 am or earlier spreading snow-melting mixtures and shoveling? Whose job is it to push the snow blaster along the sidewalks over and over again? Who has to get from home to work in the weather for which everyone else is staying in? Those employees.

To the emergency employees/snow clearers of DC, Chattanooga, Boston, everywhere: thank you. Thank you for waking up insanely early to travel in hazardous conditions to make the rest of our lives a little easier. Thank you for doing the same task repeatedly because the snow doesn't care that you've cleared the same sidewalk twice already. Thank you for enduring the insane cold and wind when you'd rather be at home, sleeping in or watching tv marathons, like the rest of us. You have every right to gripe. If you feel so inclined, I hope you exercise that right freely. I don't know any of you personally, but I hope the Universe delivers this message to you. You deserve our gratitude. And when spring finally decides to come around, I will be outside cheering and running in circles on the green grass with you.