Yesterday we returned from a wonderful week-long vacation to Orlando, Florida. As we left the baggage claim, loaded down with suitcases stuffed with flip flops and Disney souvenirs, we were hit with a gust of icy wind and I could feel my spirits flag. How I longed for the warm Florida sun! How I disliked having to hunch my shoulders against the cold! How I feared driving on those wintry roads! But when we arrived safely home, the first thing my boys did was jump into their snowsuits and snow boots and head back outside to plow the driveway with their dad. And once they finished that, the boys gleefully rolled around in the snow as if it were a sandy beach. The girls sat and watched the snowfall as they surrounded themselves with art projects, and I made hot chocolate to warm up the frozen troops. I told myself not to think about the palm trees and sunny skies…those were indeed beautiful, but not more beautiful than the frosted trees and quiet dignity of the white hillside behind our house. I absolutely love spring, summer and fall here in New England, and if a cold winter is the price to pay for the green splendor, then so be it.
I may feel like grumbling as I scrub the muddy footprints off the entry stairs for the hundredth time, but those footprints are joyful ones, left by kids who can’t get enough of stomping through the snow, and by a husband who serves his family by happily plowing, blowing, shoveling, scooping, and raking the snow away (yes, we have to rake the roof!).
Our vacation to Florida was perfect; we loved every minute of it. But it’s good to be back. Jimmy put it well when he was asked to identify his favorite part of the trip: “Coming home!”
(Thanks to my mom for the title of this blog post – that was the perfect phrase to capture our day!)
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