Dear Winter,
Was it something I said? Something I did?
It seems like forever since we spent some time together.
Forever.
Sure. There have been a few times when you've blown through town for a quickie. In the morning, though...in the morning...you were gone. Gone.
A quickie is still just a quickie however. Unsatisfying. And in a way, you have to know, those fast in and out's cheapened you.
I'm sitting here today looking at old photos...and, even though it hurts, I am smiling. Smiling as I sift through the black and white and color scraps of our relationship.
My memories take me back to the early days of our relationship when you would surprise me in the morning. Fresh. New. Bright. And we would spend hours together.
I remember praying you would come by so there would be an excuse for me to not go to school. I remember being so happy, even though my mom would have to tug-n-war me into two pairs of corduroy pants and put sandwich bags on my feet just so we could play together.
I remember the snow forts we would build. The snowmen.
I recall falling asleep after saying my prayers...including a prayer that you would be there in morning when I woke up so we could spend another day together.
All those happy times....when...you were all mine.
Sure.
We've had our rough spots. Every relationship does.
Of course there were the times when you had come through during the night...to surprise me...and then made it so hard for me to get to work the next morning....making it so hard for me to get out of bed.
And yes...then I cursed you as I struggled to get into the car to go to work knowing you were laughing at me...watching me..standing idly by as I shoveled sidewalks and scraped windshields...so proud of the joke you had played.
It was in those moments when I saw your dark side.
You are a cruel mistress, to be sure. I know better than anyone that nothing hurts worse than your icy touch. I remember all too well those times when you slapped my face...burning my cheeks til they stung. My eyes tearing. My lips numb. My fingertips wanting to touch you...but...but knowing it would only bring pain.
But...
there were also those times when you shared with me your beauty.
There were those days when it seemed like the whole world had bowed to your power...your touch...your smile. Reflected in everything around me, in all its brilliance, was your magic touch..and all I could do was sit back, sip my hot chocolate and grin.
This was the you I remembered.
It seems we spend less and less time together each year.
I think of all the clothes I've bought in anticipation of all the time we might have together. I think of the toys I've purchased so we can enjoy each other's company. They sit in the shed unused. The toys that is. The clothes are in my closet.
It's not the money, mind you. It's just the idea that I've said something to make you stay away.
These days I hear the guys on the local news talking about you...talking like they know you...giving their explanation as to why you're not coming by as much as you used to. A few, the more experienced, I guess, come off sounding like a brazen frat boy boasting about his past conquests.
Sure. They all seem to have those photos...and all the numbers you've used in the past as some sort of evidence of their relationship with you. Some even have video.
Video? That hurts.
Still...they don't know you like I know you.
You could still surprise them though. Couldn't you? You've still got some tricks left? Saying you're going to be in one part of town..and then...showing up in another.
They call you fickle.
There is a fine line between fickle and spontaneous. No one knows that better than you, I guess.
Before you know it, Spring will be here and I will welcome blue skies and warm breezes.
Before that happens, though...well...it would be nice if you stopped by.
Maybe for just the weekend.
I'll light a fire in the wood stove and I will sit back and listen to all those other people complain about you. I'll smile when I hear how excited little children are to see you.
So...please.
Won't you come on by?
I'll go to the grocery store and make sure I have everything we need.
Bread. Milk. Eggs.
I know just how much you love French toast.
and that's 'Jody' with a 'y'
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