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I Love January
By
Cathy Corcoran |
 When
I was a young girl, I loved winter, especially the snow.
My sister and I would get all bundled up in sweaters,
scarves, heavy winter jackets and snow pants. They my mother
would help us pull on knit gloves, then heavy mittens over
them. Out we’d go into the snow to make snowmen, snow forts
and snow houses. Someone would throw the first snowball,
teams would form spontaneously, and all the kids in the
neighborhood would pummel one another until we were
exhausted.
I was always surprised to notice that, though the air was
cold, I’d soon be sweating with all the activity.
Inevitably, I’d take off one of my mittens - to scratch an
itchy nose? I knew it was all over then. I could never get
the sweaty gloves and the heavy mittens back on. My hands
would get wet, and then I’d start noticing that my knees
were wet and it really was cold out there in all that white
stuff!
My mother would call, and we’d troop inside, heavy in our
wet clothes. It was all warm and cozy in our kitchen,
there’d be hot chocolate on the stove, and even though there
were puddles everywhere, my mother would be laughing as she
peeled the snow pants off us.
Then she’d string a clothesline up from one end of the
kitchen to the other and hang our wet clothes up to dry. To
this day, the smell of wet wool makes me happy.
We lived in the city in a small apartment on the second
floor. I can still see the wooden kitchen table and chairs,
the washing machine in the corner of the kitchen, the
clothesline stretched across it all, the pantry door ajar,
as my mother pulled the cocoa off the second shelf. No one I
know lives in a small apartment like that any more. We have
our suburban homes, our many-cabinet kitchens, our laundry
rooms. We dry our damp clothes in the dryer. Polar fleece
and Gore-Tex have replaced wet wool. Improvements, all, but
nothing can improve on the feelings that little story evokes
in me - safety, warmth, laughter, love. My mother as a young
woman, my sister and I as kids - those days are gone
forever, yet they’re accessible to me whenever I tell that
story.
As the years went on, I grew to dread winter and dread the
snow. Shoveling, driving, traffic - annoyances caused by
precipitation that I once thought magical and beautiful. The
busy years took away the beauty of the snow.
Now that I’m older and more flexible, I can appreciate that
beauty again. An enthusiastic young man knocked on our front
door two days after Christmas and offered to use his snow
blower on our driveway for a most reasonable sum. We
snuggled inside as he blew the snow from our driveway, then
scraped off both cars as a bonus.
My daughter was home from Denver for Christmas, and we
didn’t even leave the house as the snow blew outside. I
baked like there was no tomorrow - cookies, cakes, chocolate
butter cream - all manner of sweets that I normally don’t
eat. We watched the Patriots win, then settled down for our
favorite pasta dinner.
My daughter has her own memories of snow - forts, houses,
snowballs and sledding at the South Shore Country Club in
Hingham. Now she’ll have another memory after I’m gone - mom
in the kitchen, the young man with the snow blower in the
driveway, the Pats winning on TV. She grew up in a suburban
house with Gore-Tex and polar fleece, but the feelings are
the same - safety, warmth, laughter, fun, love.
Those are the stories that keep us warm in the dead of
winter. And this is the perfect time to tell them. Why not
sit with family or friends and tell stories about your
childhood winters? The circumstances may be different, but
I’ll bet the feelings are similar.
While you’re at it, take out the camcorder or set your
digital camera to “movie” mode, set it up and let it roll as
you talk. You’ll be preserving those stories for the future.
In some winter yet to come, you can watch those movies and
remember this winter of 2011. You’ll remember the beauty of
this winter season, and be warmed yet again when you relive
those feelings - safety, warmth, laughter, love.
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About The Author
Cathy Corcoran has been a columnist and feature writer
for The Patriot Ledger, a radio host for 95.9 FM WATD, and a
communications consultant for the Massachusetts Department
of Public Health and many other clients. She helps preserve
family stories through books, slide shows, videos and how-to
workshops. Her web site is www.HowtoTellYourFamilyStory.com..
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