Yesterday, I dug out of the ton
of snow. We have a chicken in our
neighborhood and I found it on top of one of the stone white lions that sit on the
sides of our front steps. It nervously
looked at me before flying off into the tree, well aware it couldn’t escape by
running away. The night before the kids
asked me if I could get it and bring it inside.
“It will rip your eyes out if it had the chance.” This is no ordinary chicken; this was a
street wise punk who picks up scraps when the opportunity strikes. He struts like he owns the block. He may be tough but he is a survivor living through this storm as well as Sandy. The estimate
is 30 inches of snow fell in our area. It was the
hardest hit on Long Island. There was
the stifled silence which I felt when I sneaked under the snow laden limb to
toss bird seed onto the snow. Yes, I feed the birds. The silence reminded me of building a snow fort
when I was 9, eating my dinner inside the hollow chamber with a flickering
candle. I was separated from the outside
world, it was warm in that fort, my brother or sisters could not penetrate the
thick walls; until the sun melted away the privacy and space into the spring
soil. This weekend has been a
change. On Thursday night I picked
Amanda up at JFK, we stopped in Huntington and ate a late dinner at Mundey’s
and picked up a book at Book Revue. We
made it home by 9ish. Bella wrote a
Welcome Home sign for her. Friday morning
the storm was coming. Even in the snow
we prepared and dropped off the kids at their schools. I worked from home since the predictions called
for more than two feet in the area. The
kids were let out from school early. Joe’s
performance at the high school, Sound of Music was called off on Friday and Saturday. The snow and winds came. I spent hours shoveling out a path to the
driveway and then the whole driveway and then the cars. The show was piled to the top of the
trunk. Eventually my muscles waved white
flags, cease and desist. I thought of my
parents on Bellecrest Avenue and felt relieved to know my Brother-In-Law was
there to shovel them out. I heard of cars abandoned on the expressway and Route
83 and 347. People were stranded in
their cars. For the first time in the
twelve years we have lived on this block, our road was not plowed. Even now a full twenty four hours after the snow and thunder, the
road is still treacherous. No church
this morning. The cable and phone and
internet are out. The cord snapped off
the pole. I pulled the thick plastic
cord off the road and wrapped it around a fence post. We are left to DVD’s and games and talking to
each other. It’s a weekend you’d imagine
you’d like. As the years passed - we
have been busy with distractions and events. I felt that emotional tug; I’d like a day when
I had nothing to do. There is hardly a day for that - nothing to do - especially when you’re home. I found myself organizing the file cabinet,
finding old bills and old pictures. I
may bring them in since I told Beth there was a picture of me and Shane from
The Pogues…it’s Sunday…and there is nothing to do or so I thought till I wanted
to jot down some thoughts.
Thank you for
reading this.
No comments:
Post a Comment